The Soldier and the Doctor: Civil War
by thesoldiermormont
Summary: When an event of destruction forces the Avengers to accept accountability and limitations, doctor Mallory Smith is caught in the middle of a potential tear in the group as they question their decisions. Mallory is forced to choose her side as an old friend resurfaces and a new enemy comes out of hiding. But is it all as it seems? *SEQUEL*
1. The Spy Who Loved Me

_It wasn't supposed to be like this._

It was all Mallory could think, as the truck bounced on the loose-dirt roads and the muffled shouts of men drowned her own breathing. Her life wasn't supposed to be like this. She'd imagined a simple, clean life with a nice man and maybe a couple of children. And a dog. She'd always wanted a dog.

She'd never imagined being escorted in the back of an international terrorists truck on the way to his latest heist with a bag over her head. Especially the added fun of the same international terrorist being an ex-boyfriend and still in love with you.

A crash from outside forced her fear back to her throat and she gasped under the black bag, squinting to see between the gaps of the fibres. The men around her were standing, shouting in broken English. Someone grabbed her roughly and forced her to her feet. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Angry tears stung her eyes.

The bag was torn from her head and bright light blinded her.

 _Here we go._

TWELVE HOURS EARLIER

"My name is Brock Rumlow. A few years ago, I was the leader to S.H.I.E.L.D's tactical STRIKE force. Now I am a criminal. A terrorist. Do not blame me for what I have become. Blame Captain fuckin' America."

Mallory's Smith found herself stabbing the pause button. The footage halted on the big screen. Rumlow sat cross legged in front of the camera. Or Crossbones as he was going by nowadays. His new costume was a perversion of Iron Man's armour with it's dark plating and scratched on cross insignia. A helmet covered his face, shrouding the true extent of his injuries from public view. Was he seated because he could no longer walk? It seemed unlikely. Mallory stared the figure she'd known down the screen, aware he could not see her and respond but also aware she was desperate to speak to him. _What happened?_ She wanted to say. _Why didn't you tell me you were alive?_

"The one thing I didn't understand was why you came to me."

Around her stood a good half of the current Avengers roster. Steve Rogers, who'd never liked her due to her past affiliation with HYDRA and who liked her even less after he'd been told about Bucky. Natasha Romanoff, who was one of her only and closest friends. Sam Wilson, who was trying to like her despite her past HYDRA membership and Wanda Maximoff, a newbie Mallory had never met who still hadn't made her mind up.  
Steve was the one who had spoken. "He's your boyfriend."

"Ex." She corrected, "Ex boyfriend. And that shouldn't matter. He's doesn't want me, he wants you."

The video itself had surfaced a while after Nat had informed Mallory that Rumlow was still alive. It hadn't been taken very well; Mallory had gone completely immobile with shock as her current boyfriend Liam had raged and screamed at Nat for missing his body in the debris of the Washington disaster. Nat had came to warn her in case Rumlow had decided to come after her but for a good four months the airwaves had remained clear and Rumlow was in hiding. Then this video had surfaced. It was sent directly to the Avengers but also the press; a big shiny dinner bell ringing loudly in the night. _I'm alive! And I'm pissed off._

"Yes. We know that." Steve agreed.

"So does the world." Wanda interjected unnecessarily. Both parties shared a look of understanding and Mallory got the impression they were about to unload another bombshell. She really needed to stop answering the phone whenever one of them called.

"Then why am I here?"

"The video he sent to the press and the one he sent to us were identical. Apart from the length. Ours was longer."

Mallory's mouth felt dry. "What? What did he say?"

In response, Sam leant forward and stabbed play. Rumlow jerked into motion again. It felt like a jump scare on a bad horror movie; her chest felt tight when he suddenly moved. Mallory had watched this video endlessly on the news channels and on YouTube knowing there was still a couple of lines of dialogue she had memorized left for him to speak. She spoke along with him, her lips moving silently to these words.

"I used to fight for a cause. A wrong one, maybe, but a cause is still a cause. Something to get out of bed for in the morning. Apart from the love of a beautiful woman." Mallory eyes widened like they had the first time, when the picture had flashed up. Sure, he'd gone to the trouble of blurring it so nobody would know who it was but the news channels were looking. And Mallory knew it was her own face staring back at her.

"Now I don't fight for anybody but myself." Rumlow continued, "And I can promise you, I am dangerous. Ask Captain America." This shot was interspersed with scenes of each potentially world-ending event that had happened in the past few years; Mallory couldn't name them all but the Hulk was there, that alien that had come down in London a couple of years back and Loki. Now came the new footage, and Mallory had clenched her fist so tightly it felt the bones were going to break from the skin. "Do me a favour, Steve. Burton Star. Box 2364. Lilium candidum."

The video stopped. Mallory was left with more questions then answers, turning wordlessly to the Avengers who were watching her intently. Steve answered her unasked question.

"Burton Star is the name of a safety deposit box in Italy. Lilium candidum was the password to box 2364, a box which we found out later was owned by one J R. Cogburn-"

"Rooster Cogburn?" _Seriously?_ Rumlow had bought a safety deposit box under the name of a character out of his favourite movie? It seemed an awfully ostentatious move for a damn spy. "What the hell-"

"This was inside." Steve passed two items along the table. The first was a plastic lily. The second caused her heart palpitations; a velvet ring box. Mallory's eyes were fixed on the thing until Nat stepped forward and gently touched her shoulder. Mallory jumped, gasped and then sighed.

"Sorry."

"We've had it checked. The box, the ring… they're all clean."

Mallory opened the little, rattling velvet box. Inside was the engagement ring. A timeless piece, a simple silver band inset with a single diamond. Curiousity made her slide the ring on and admire it. It winked at her in the sun. He really did know her taste.

"Are you alright?" Nat asked. The ring felt heavy and awkward, the loose band slowly sliding forward and backwards with her movements. Mallory ignored her friend's probing and looked away.

"Why do you think he's doing this?" Wanda asked.

Sam shrugged. "A reminder of his love? Some twisted ploy to manipulate you? Take your pick."

"Has he contacted you?" Sam asked. Mallory shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't lie."

Steve snorted tellingly. Mallory could see the gulf of space between them, a big metal arm of secrets that forced the two away from ever becoming friends. Sam and Wanda suddenly looked awkward but Mallory felt like she was being poked with a stick, baited into an argument with him. And as the way her life was going at the moment, she needed to yell at someone.

"If you've got something to say, Rogers, say it."

"You know my problem."

"I've told you, I have no idea where he is."

"Sure. 'Cos I believe that."

Mallory pushed her chair out from underneath her to stand. "Believe what you want. _He_ didn't want to see _you_. _He_ didn't want to disappoint _you_. He thought he could get better by himself and when he realized he couldn't he took off. If I'd have known-"

"You would've done nothing."  
"I would've stopped him!" Mallory's voice was raised to a shout. Sam made a move to step between them but Wanda halted him, her eyebrows waggling, a clear sign for him to stay out of it. Natasha kept herself separate as well, knowing this argument had been brewing since Mallory had told Steve that James had been living under his nose after all this time of searching. "He was my friend, just as much as he was yours."

Steve made a low noise in the back of his throat, the tone indicating he clearly didn't believe her. The fact nobody had jumped in to defend her made Mallory feel like the big metal gulf was widening and she was standing alone from the entirety of the Avengers with nothing but the empty air to hold her. Mallory scooped the plastic lily and the empty ring box into her bag and looked at Nat.

"Are we done here?"

Nat nodded. "If you get any contact with him-"

"I'll call." She didn't say goodbye.

Liam was still at work by the time Mallory arrived home and she was glad. Aching and exhausted, a conversation with Liam wanting to know every single detail of being whisked away suddenly for a secret meeting would've just exhausted her even more. She read her mail and trashed the junk, then collapsed onto her bed in a pile of sore limbs and a pulsating migraine.

She'd moved back home the day after her mother had gone to rehab for alcoholism. In truth, Julie had suffered for a while in the throes of misery. The loss of her father had hit both of them hard but Julie had literally shattered, her heart failing with the extreme stress. She hadn't done irreparable damage to her liver quite yet but she was almost there. Mallory had worked with so many addicts her life as they passed through A &E but picturing her mother joining the ranks of the yellow eyed and scratching crowd caused her too much pain. So the agreement was set. Julie healed herself if Mallory promised to give her boyfriend a proper chance. And now she was stuck with Liam.

She was turning the ring idly as she stared at the ceiling. Rumlow had over-estimated the fatness of her fingers. She took the ring off and was thinking about to have for dinner when she noticed the lily.

It was identical to the one he'd bought her the last time. A single plastic lily in a plastic pot. Such an innocent gesture but it had been the undoing of them, since Mallory had knocked it off her bedside table and smashed the brittle plastic to tiny pieces, revealing the spying gadget within. An idea struck her. She picked the plastic up and threw it hard, against the wall.

Like the cousin she'd previously murdered, it shattered into a million tiny pieces. Amongst the multicoloured debris, she spotted a tiny bit of flimsy paper. Written on it in little, tight script was:

 _Soon_

She thought the entire ordeal, the video, the code to the safe box had been far too obvious for him. He was a smart man and sending Rogers on a manhunt just to give her the engagement ring was an easy way to get a message across. And he was an ex-spy. Who knew who he was running with nowadays? She betted one of his new friends knew how to bypass a security network and scanners just to send a bit of paper.

Again, she'd been fooled by him and he was a thousand miles away. The thought made her teeth ache with fury as she ground her jaws against one another.

So what did soon mean? Soon he'd be here and they'd be living happy families once more? Soon he'd kidnap her and whisk her to whatever hovel he was living out of? Most likely, it was the latter.

Mallory stood and checked outside of the window. A black SUV was parked right across the street and just as she was watching, a couple of men exited the vehicle. Spending time around the STRIKE team, the Soldier and the Avengers afforded her some intuition; all were big, burly men of different ethnicities, like a coordinated street gang of black-dresssed thugs. She focused on who she guessed was the leader, holding a black bag in one hand. She analysed the way he walked, the iron straight posture and the harsh set of his shoulders. She watched him up until he disappeared from her window view, underneath to the entrance of her apartment building.

It took her a minute to climb the four-flights to her apartment. It'd take them 30 seconds. 30 seconds.

She leaped for her phone. Unlocked it. Pulled up her message list. She hovered between the top two; Nat or Liam? No contest. She quickly typed a message to her friend and sent. 17 seconds.

Now came the dilemma. Hop out of the window or fight with the baseball bat under her bed? She hovered on one foot, wasting precious seconds. _Think, think, think._ She couldn't, not with the racket of the clumping boots and the panic. She had five seconds left so she dived for the bat, in her underwear drawer. A white thong was tangled around the end. _This was a stupid idea._

The door was kicked open and the men flooded in. James's week-long training kicked in and she swung, hard and fast. The clunk of his head was satisfying, and in the few seconds gap she'd created she ran for the door.

Someone had her hair. Dragged her back. She screamed but they were quicker, muffling her voice with thick fingers. He'd hooked his arms awkwardly around hers and the position made her drop the bat, loudly. She hoped it would wake downstairs and they'd help. She fought him every step of the way but there was five of them and one of her; she was forced on her knees.

She worked his thumb in her mouth and bit down on it, hard. Blood filled her mouth but she smiled triumphantly. If all else failed, at least she could take that tiny victory to her grave.

"Fuck!" The man let go off her, rubbing his thumb but his absence was not felt as there was still four of them holding her. Business-like, another produced the syringe from his pocket. Unlabelled but clearly a sedative, he forced her head aside and stabbed it in her neck.

She counted to ten then she was out.

"Mallory."

Ew. Her mouth tasted vile like the dregs of whiskey in a glass. And burnt rubber, oddly. She was awake but she didn't want to open her eyes and be confronted with whatever shitstorm was waiting for her when she woke up. There were people standing around her and her hands were bound behind a chair, her neck aching from her head lolling forwards. She pretended she was still unconsciousness as she rolled it back loosely, fighting the urge to sigh.

"Mallory." A hand shook her this time. A rough accent, a voice she didn't recognize. Someone needed her to wake. "Mallory."

Where was she? Would could she smell? Bleach and metal. She screwed up her face instinctively at the mixture and felt something crust at her mouth; blood? Snot? Could've been anything. She doubted they'd tenderly wiped away the drool when she'd passed out from the sedative.

"I know you are awake." The voice said, firmer this time, "It'll make things easier if you open your eyes."

"Easier for who?"

"You."

Sighing, Mallory opened her eyes and instantly regretted it. Blinding light literally blinded her and she shut them again, blinking away the dark spots in her vision.

"There we go. Go tell him she's awake."  
Footsteps grew distant and Mallory was left alone. Standing above her was a burly male, black with a shaved head and an impassive face. He produced a butterfly knife from his jeans.

"If I free you, will you hit me?"

"How much damage do you think I can do?" Her legs felt like jelly. She was still as weak as a baby from passing out. He was still cautious when he approached, swiping the connection of the zip tie in a quick stroke then jerking backwards. Mallory rolled her eyes and massaged her wrist, feeling perfectly fine where she was sitting. Someone came into the room.

"He said she has to come to him."  
The black man rolled his eyes. "God. Do I have to carry you or can you walk?"

She wanted to stay seated but she stood unsteadily, "I can walk."

She didn't mind the black guy. He just wanted to do his job, no matter how illegal that job was. Mallory flirted with the idea of asking his name but knew if she named it, it would make it a lot harder to watch him eventually be arrested for his crimes. She had sent that text; people would be looking for her. Especially if she was where she believed she was.

They walked through high corridors and cold rooms. "So where are we?"

"Home base."  
"Where's that?"  
"Nigeria."

Jesus Christ. They'd crossed international borders. How had they managed that without her passport? Mallory shook her head. Was she really worrying about such a trivial thing when she'd been literally kidnapped? She wasn't frightened because she knew who had kidnapped her. He was a literal pain in the ass but he would never hurt her. _You don't know that,_ a part of her warned, sounding suspiciously like James, _you don't know Crossbones._

"Nigeria." She repeated, "Damn."

"What?"

"I thought we were in Disneyland."

He shoot her a disgusted look, most likely confused to how calmly she was taking it. They stopped outside of a lone room at the end of the corridor and he opened the door for her, gesturing for her to go inside. He didn't follow her.

The room was a lonely one, save for a chair, a camera mounted on a tripod and a mattress on the floor. A man was sitting in the chair, dressed in a tight black t-shirt, tight cargo pants and oddly, a ski-mask. He looked up when she entered.

"Hey."

The voice softened the confusion. Deep and husky, it was a voice she had listened to for hours on end. Rumlow. Mallory stopped in the middle of the room and stood awkwardly, feeling a sudden urge to launch herself across the room and slap him.

"So you're not dead." She said, sounding angrier than she felt. Rumlow, behind that ski-mask, laughed.

"No. Not dead." He pointed to the bed, "Could you-?"

There was a first aid kit on the bed. Mallory started forwards and picked it up, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You want me to diagnose some yeast infection or something?"  
He laughed again, "No. Uhm… I want your opinion. This might be a bit of a shock so you might want to sit down."

"I'm fine standing."

"Right."

He stood and peeled off his shirt, careful of the ski-mask on his face. His toned torso was exactly how she remembered apart from the burns, of all degrees, decorating his chest and body like vicious pink tattoos. Some were still weeping, others covered in soiled bandages. Mallory's found her mouth was a little open and she shut it quickly; what the hell had she expected? He'd been trapped in a burning building. It was a surprise he could still walk.

He lifted the ski-mask off. The face was perhaps the least affected but it was still pretty bad; ordinary coloured skin but sagging, melted by the extreme heat. His right eye was drooping and red. Most of his hair had survived but was still thin, limp and missing in places. Patches of facial hair were also burnt off. She wished she'd sat down.

"Jesus."

"I know. Awful isn't it?"  
Over the initial shock, she stepped forward and said, "All things considered, it's not that bad."

"Oh, please."

"Rumlow, believe me. It really isn't all that bad," She took another step forwards, gripping the first aid kit, "Seriously. I've seen worse."

"I can feel it in some places but in others, I can't."

"It'll be the degree of burn. Third degree burns affect all layers of the skin tissue and destroy pain receptors. First and second don't." She finally reached up and lifted a hand, tilting his chin very gently towards the light, "How often are you changing your dressings?"  
"You don't see me for almost a year and that's what you ask?"

She ignored him, "How often?"

"Twice a day on the body, once a day on the face."

"Up it to three." She guided him to the bed and sat him down, putting on the gloves in the first aid kit and beginning to remove the soiled dressings, "Especially in the arms. They're the worst affected. What'd your doctor prescribe for the pain?"  
"Some high-dosage shit. I haven't been taking them."

Mallory sighed. She knew Rumlow didn't like admitting he was in pain. Getting him to take ibuprofen for a headache was a nightmare. "Antibiotic creams?"

"In there." He gestured to the first aid kit and watched as she got to work, "So how you been?"

She considered ignoring him out of spite. "Fine."

"I hear you're dating again. That's good. Shame he's such a pussy." Despite herself, Mallory rolled her eyes and was rubbing the cream a little harder than he deserved on the least burnt areas, "Ow."

"You been stalking me?"

"Irregularly."  
"How romantic. Love it when someone does that, really shows how much they care about me." She finished lathering him in the cream and started checking for signs of infection, "Liam is not a pussy."

"Sure. He was jealous of Bucky."  
"You knew he was living with me?" Surprised, she stopped ripping the bandages she was preparing and watched him, "Why didn't you tell anybody?"

"Not my problem." He said, then sighed, "Really. I don't care about that crap anymore. He's HYDRA's problem, not mine. And I didn't want to get you in trouble."

"How honourable." She started wrapping the bandages carefully, "Liam wasn't jealous of James."  
"Sure. Show me a hot blooded male who isn't jealous watching his girlfriend living with an attractive guy with a tragic back story and I'll start knitting for a living." He snorted.

"You really think James is attractive? God. If you're gay, just tell me. It'll be another lie to add to the pile." Mallory said, smirking.

She wasn't bitter, Mallory found herself realizing. She genuinely did not feel any type of bitterness towards him at all. She was so tired of being angry at him that she'd forgotten just how easy it was to be around him.

"But seriously Mal, your ex? Really? Did it have to be him?"

"Are you jealous?"  
"Course I'm jealous. I still love you, you know"

Mallory ignored his last statement, taping up his first set of bandages before answering, "You've got no right to be jealous."

"I think I'd rather you start dating the Soldier than that asshole."  
"It'd be difficult to date someone who isn't even there anymore." She thought sadly to the letter he'd written her when he'd left. _I will see you again. That's a promise._

"He left?"

She wrapped his second set before answering, "Yeah he left."

In the silence that descended, Rumlow watched her with unreadable hazel eyes as she finished taping his second set and was pulling off her gloves.

"I'm sorry." He said, and she believed he was being genuine, "I know he was your friend."

"He needed to leave. For him. It's sad that he's gone but… I respect his decision, y'know?"

The mood changed. Mallory watched as Rumlow redressed and moved around, making sure his bandages wouldn't come undone or fall off with movement. When they didn't, he sat back down on the bed and grasped her hands.

"I know you've moved on and that's good. I can't offer you anything beyond a life of running away from everybody but… if you still love me and there's still a chance… I'd give up all of this-" He gestured to the base, "-for you. As far as I'm concerned you're the only thing that matters."

Mallory was silent. She knew that with all of the water under the bridge, the correct response was to jerk away from him, slap his ruined face and say _fuck no take me home you kidnapping bastard!_ But she was silent a beat too long. There was definite temptation there. The picture perfect idea of an unhealthy love, her and Rumlow hand in hand, running against the world, fucking in cheap hotel rooms and patching each other up in abandoned warehouses. It was worse than her dynamic with Liam but it would be something, something passionate and alive and exciting, a thunderbolt to the bland blue sky that Liam wanted for their future. And Rumlow was better in bed than him.

But living like that was no life. Despite all of her changes, she was still a good person. She carefully pulled her hands away from his and looked up at him through soft eyes.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was hoarse, apologetic, "I can't."

He nodded, still smiling. "I can't say I'm not surprised. But a guy's gotta offer, right? I guess we can charter a plane home."

Mallory smiled. At that moment, the door burst open and the black guy who escorted her here entered. He bent to Rumlow good ear and whispered something and the change in Rumlow's face was slight terrifying; the look of good faith and happiness faded into absolute furious rage. The black guy stood, was dismissed and the silent echo of the door shutting was all Mallory could hear.

"Did you alert the Avengers to the fact we took you?"

 _Oh no._

A/N: Yay! First chapter uploaded! Just to reiterate my point, this story is a sequel. It's on my profile if you're interested.

This story is going to be the multi-chaptered continuation of Mallory's story whilst following the Civil War storyline BUT be prepared; I will be changing some things I didn't like from the movie.

They will only be minor changes to certain things that really irritated me. It's not like I'm not going to completely rewrite the ending and have it revealed that actually the Winter Soldier is a cover story and Bucky's actually a famous cabaret dancer in France or something. I'm not saying I'm better than the Russos because I still think the movie was fantastic but there was a few elements of it that made me go 'oh hell no!' and think about how I was going to change it whilst I was in the theatre. It'll basically be some dialogue changes and a few actions by certain characters that will be changed.

Okay, I'm done. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and I hope you'll stick around! Thank you all so much! Much love! xx


	2. Fire and Rescue

"Well? Did you?"

Mallory folded her arms, suddenly defensive at his patronizing tone. When she didn't answer in the second he gave her, he stamped on the floor like a petulant child and stood, grabbing the back of the chair and throwing it across the room. The metallic clatter sent a shock-wave of fright through Mallory and she flinched.

"Fuck! FUCK! Do you realize what you've done? Fuck!" He ran his hands through his patchy hair and looked crazed, "Fuck! HARRISON!"

The black guy came back into the room. "Yes?"

"We're attacking now."

"But-"

"Don't but me! The timing's all messed up, I know but we have to attack now or the fucking Avengers will show up."

Harrison still lingered.

"The Mason Airfield might not have a plane on time."

"Sort it out. Tell we'll double commission."

Harrison nodded and left the room. Mallory raised an eyebrow at Rumlow.  
"I doubt the Avengers will come looking for me."

Still furious, he barely turned to look at her and said bitterly, "Really? Aren't you one of them now?"

"So what if I am? It's better than being a HYDRA lapdog. At least I know what I'm fighting for."

"And I don't?"  
"Yes. You do." Mallory stood. "That's the problem. You're just fighting for yourself. It's pathetic."

"You don't know what I went through." He was yelling, throwing the camera against the wall. It shattered. "After the Triskelion. After what happened."  
"I know exactly what you went through." The words came from nowhere. It was like she'd memorized a monologue and was acting it out. "You sat in a corner and whined and bitched and moaned about the fact your pretty face, one of the few things that made you mildly interesting, was burnt to shit so you turned into a complete psycho and declared yourself some international terrorist pirate! What are you trying to achieve? Like really? You're living in a fucking shack dealing with guys who would turn on you in seconds and you think you're better than me?"

"Mal, I'm warning you-"

"Warning me? What? Are you going to hit me?"  
"Don't push me!"

"Why? What's going to happen when I push you? Are you going to shoot me? Ravish me like some seventeenth century pirate? Is that what you're into now? _Fuck you_ , Rumlow. You're pathetic."

Both parties looked stunned. Rumlow was utterly shocked, actually taking a cautious step back as her voice rose in volume and fury. Mallory, once the pulsing words were out of her mouth, stood there in shock, breathing heavily. Had she really just said that? It was so unlike her to be so heartless and cruel.

"You done?"  
He looked… odd. His eyes were downcast and he was looking at her blankly. _He doesn't recognize me_ she thought vaguely, then had to tell herself off for feeling hurt. She didn't recognize herself. Rumlow pulled his lower lip between his teeth and was just looking at her.

"You really think I'd do any of that?" He sounded hurt. She'd gotten a little carried away but she replied blankly, perfecting the dead-eyed cold stare the Soldier had taught her.

"I don't know what you'd do. I don't know you anymore." And then, the feeling that was building in her chest finally came to the surface. Grief. She couldn't believe she'd almost parted on just telling she couldn't leave with him, without telling him why he caused so much pain.

"Part of me _died_ that day. At the Triskelion. What with my dad and you… I couldn't cope. For so long. It's still dead right now even though you're standing right in front of me I can't… bring it back. I can't make it breathe again. I wish I could just forget everything and run away and live in some shitty motel with you forever but you're not the person I fell in love with." Rumlow nodded but she couldn't stop analysing it, knowing if she never said it that it would haunt her. " _I'm_ not the person _you_ fell in love with. We're both different now and I don't know if it's good different or bad different but it's different and I don't think it can ever be the same again."

She was so wrapped up in her own drama that she couldn't hear the door open behind and Harrison sneaking in again, syringe brandished casually like it was nothing but some car keys.

Rumlow nodded. "I agree. And now I know what to do."

Mallory felt the syringe and the cool foreign liquid seeping into her veins. It slowed time and she counted to ten again, waiting for the sedative to work to escape this metal hell.

They were going somewhere. She woke wedged between two hot bodies, in a stuffy truck, surrounded by men. She wondered vaguely where Rumlow was but remembered, as her mind trawled through sticky shores and she softened the dryness in her mouth, that she didn't care anymore. She tried asking but the black bag on her head muffled her speech so much that nobody answered. Nobody had probably heard or more likely, nobody had cared.

 _It wasn't supposed to be like this._

It was all Mallory could think, as the truck bounced on the loose-dirt roads and the muffled shouts of men drowned her own breathing. Her life wasn't supposed to be like this. She'd imagined a simple, clean life with a nice man and maybe a couple of children. And a dog. She'd always wanted a dog.

She'd never imagined being escorted in the back of an international terrorists truck on the way to his latest heist with a bag over her head. Especially the added fun of the same international terrorist being an ex-boyfriend and still in love with you.

A crash from outside forced her fear back to her throat and she gasped under the black bag, squinting to see between the gaps of the fibres. The men around her were standing, shouting in broken English. Someone grabbed her roughly and forced her to her feet. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Angry tears stung her eyes.

The bag was torn from her head and bright light blinded her.

 _Here we go._ Someone forced a gas mask over her head and she heard shooting close by, as she jumped from the truck with her hands bound. Where the hell were they? Mallory turned to look behind her and saw a shattered wall in how they'd arrived. She turned again to reveal a smart white building with a tiled courtyard, now swarming with Rumlow's militia. To her left was a sign; Institute for Infectious Diseases. The gas mask made sense and also his plan; biological weapons sold to the highest bidder. That bastard. As a doctor, biological warfare terrified Mallory. It was up there with contracting HIV accidentally and spiders.

His militia shattered the glass on the upper floors to flood the building with tear gas and smoke bombs. Although she was officially a hostage, nobody was really watching her enough so she had to act quickly. A knife to free her hands. Where could she find a knife? She saw Harrison acting as an under-boss, directing his forces to block the exits from oncoming police or, Mallory thought with her fingers crossed, the Avengers. She strided towards him confidently, bending to swoop up a very long bit of pipe that had broken off from the wall.

She stopped instantly. A car that had been caught in the wreckage was smashed in. She saw a blur of red, white and blue and despite their mutual dislike, Mallory couldn't help but feel relief. They had come after all. In the confusion, Harrison had lowered his weapon and Mallory struck hard with the pipe. He staggered and she freed the knife from his side, running back towards the safety of the truck, sawing her bindings free as she went.

Steve was crouched on top of one of the security shacks and Mallory ran over to him, screaming and waving her arms.

"Nat, I have Mallory."

"Hey Steve." She was breathless, "I don't know where he is."

"We'll find him." He spoke into his mic, "Body armour. AR17's. I count seven hostiles."

"Just you?"

"Sam's somewhere. Wanda. Nat." Steve walked to the edge of the shack and jumped off. Mallory smiled.

"Good to know I'm wanted."

Wanda landed in the courtyard with those strange red energy powers and shielded herself from a bullet storm. She and Sam doubled teamed, with Wanda throwing the man up in the air and Sam swooping in to close-line him. The team stood in a line as Sam's drone scanned the building.

"Mallory, I'd suggest you get yourself out of here." Steve said and Wanda nodded.

"Yeah. It's gonna get messy." Sam said, then read his wrist-scan, "Rumlow's on the third floor."

Mallory sighed, "He's out for blood. I've never seen him so angry."

"Well, we can do angry. Wanda-" The dark haired girl looked at him attentively. "Just like we practised."

"What about the gas?"  
"Get it out." Steve ran and jumped and Mallory frowned; did he really think he was that powerful? But then she understood as a red current glowed across his body and Steve was lifted all three floors into the building. Wanda stood in front of the building and started throwing her hands around, the red energy coming out of her hands in a steady stream. Mallory watched in utter awe as the windows shattered, all of the gas escaping in a murky brown storm.

"Damn." Sam was standing behind her, using his drones to take out hostiles as he protected the two women. Wanda arched her back as she directed the current of brown air up towards the heavens. Mallory hadn't realized how talented she was.

"Rumlow has the payload." Sam said suddenly, and Mallory wished she had an earpiece to keep in the loop. "Nat's coming in." He added with a wry grin for Mallory's sake.

A truck pulled up and Mallory saw Rumlow and more of his militia heading towards it. She heard the motorbike before she saw Nat, a loud rumbling of an engine, akin to the smooth power of a jaguar building. Mallory saw the red hair and felt instantly relieved again. The Black Widow was at the rescue.

"Mal, I'm serious. You need to take cover." Sam said but he was distracted. Things had moved quickly and all of a sudden Rumlow was shooting bombs at Steve then driving away. Steve was on the ground, groaning and Mallory ran over to him, kneeling by his knocked out form.

"Are you alright?"  
"Give me a second."

"Here let me." Mallory stood and held out her hand, hauling the super soldier to his feet. He grimaced at her but was trying to look civil, pressing his fingers to his ear.

"We don't know where they'd heading."  
She remembered Harrison suddenly and the conversation in the room. "I do. Mason Airfield. Probably delivering the weapon to the seller."

Steve relayed this information and Nat jogged up, grinning at both of them.

"Nice to see you again, Mal."  
"Yeah. Shame it's not in a bar."

"Yeah. I've called in the police so you'll have protection," Nat looked at Steve and was suddenly all business. "Let's go."

"Wait!" She screamed, at their retreating forms, "You can't just leave me here!"

Nat hopped on her bike and stopped to shout, "Yes we can!" before swerving dangerously back down the main road.

She felt like an unwanted dog, left by the scene of the crime. Bodies of fallen soldiers surrounded her and Mallory was torn about the prospect of staying. On the one hand, she knew she had nothing to offer to the fight and would be a liability. On the other, she wanted to see this play out. The arrest of Rumlow would be quite satisfying. Mallory hovered on her foot as she considered and as time ticked on, waning as police sirens grew closer to mop up the accident she'd decided.

One of the trucks was left abandoned, blown out windows but the key was still in the ignition. As she started driving, she was struck with the idea that she hadn't a clue where anybody was going. A passerby!

She pulled up alongside a young woman on a bike. "Excuse me? Do you speak English?"  
The woman looked at her blankly. Shit. Mallory revved the engine and said again, "Uhm… Mason Airfield? I need to get to Mason Airfield. I'm a doctor."

She had no idea why had she chosen include her profession. The woman was frowning now, scanning how wrecked the truck looked and the minor cuts stinging Mallory's face.

"Uhm… Avengers! Captain America?"

The woman nodded, smiling suddenly and pointed towards the left. Mallory swerved. "Thank you!" She was glad Steve's uniform was ostentatious.

It didn't take her long to find them. All parties had stopped in the middle of a market place. She parked alongside the abandoned truck and saw a group of people had dispersed, making a ring around two men fighting. One was wearing red, white and blue and Mallory evolved into a sprint, fighting her way through the crowd to break through the ring watching as Rumlow pulled his helmet off.

"You have to stop this! Rumlow!"

He located her and the arrogant look on his face faded. Steve raised his arm and yelled, "Get back!"

"No!" She snapped back, coming forwards, "Rumlow! Just surrender!"  
"Mallory get back!" Why the hell were they both agreeing with each other? Rumlow looked terrified and raised his arm to shoo her back. Steve shook him once and his ruined face focused back on him.

"You know he knew you. Your buddy, your pal your Bucky."

Hearing his name was like somebody had put a weight on her chest. The air left her in a sharp gasp. Bucky. God, she hadn't tried to think about him in so long. Steve looked equally as deserved, giving Rumlow's body armour a violent shake.  
"What'd you say?"

"He remembered you. I was there. Got all weepy about it. Till they put his brain back in a blender." She remembered the day in the bank, a regular occurrence in her nightmares, when he'd asked who Steve was so they'd reset him. "Wanted you to know something. He said to me, 'please tell Rogers when you gotta go, you gotta go'. And now you're coming with me."

Rumlow's thumb clicked something and her heart sped up. She heard his words swimming her mind, as he screamed as the fire began to spread. _And now I know what to do._ Her rejection had been the final straw. This was never about the biological weapon. It was about revenge.

Someone stumbled behind her. The red energy surrounded Rumlow's body but Wanda panicked, her arms sending it upwards without direction. She'd intended for it to go south-ways to explode in mid-air but Mallory knew what was going to happen; call it foresight she'd developed during her residency, to accurately predict a stressful night shift or a difficult patient. Wanda had pushed too far and the explosion blew through a building, killing whoever was inside instantly. It would be a multitude of different things. Burns. Fumes. Debris smashing the body. Heart caving in. Shock.

People started screaming. Mallory turned around and saw Wanda, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes filling with tears.

"Sam we need… fire and rescue." Steve sounded disturbed. "On the south side of the building. We have to go."

Both women wouldn't move. Steve pulled on Wanda's arm and guided her away.

"Wanda, we have to go. You coming Mallory?"

An eerie calm descended over Mallory, the calm of someone who had seen destruction before. She could call for a jet later from the Avengers; she couldn't abandon any potential survivors. It wouldn't sit well with her.

"Go." She said firmly, "I've got this."

A/N: Look at me, updating quickly. Usually I'm slow as hell but I was just feeling it tonight. Response, as usual has been amazing I love you guys and I love my reviewers deeper than anything.

(will twerk for reviews)


	3. Sokovia Accords

Liam and Mallory were lying on her sofa. Liam had his arm around Mallory and the weight was starting to irritate her, as she was circling jobs in the newspaper. She wasn't really paying much attention to what she was circling, her eyes fixed on the news as the king of Wakanda had just announced his desire to hold the Avengers accountable for the mess that had taken place in Lagos.

"Good." Liam declared decisively. "They've spent almost three years just doing whatever they want."  
Mallory jerked against him, so quickly that Liam removed his hand from her hair and sighed against her neck "They get the job done."

"At the expense of others."

She twisted to face him, feeling a little outraged. "How can you say that? You're a doctor. You know sometimes you can't save everybody."

"Mal, really?" He snorted. "You can't compare us to them."

"Well, I can."

"No. We train endlessly to perfect our art. She-" He gestured violently to the screen as they showed an image of Wanda Maximoff, a shaky cam iPhone footage capture of the exact moment she'd thrown the explosion up into the air. "-has had what… three months to learn and she's just allowed out in the field? Something like this was eventually gonna happen. With powers like those, she should either know how to use them or just stop. I know she's your friend or whatever-"

"I don't know Wanda." Mallory said, "I don't really know any of them."

"Whatever your relationship to her, you gotta admit, putting her in the field was a stupid idea." Liam sighed, taking a thoughtful sip of his beer before adding, "If it wasn't for her, Rumlow might have gotten a chance to be tried and sentenced as a proper criminal."

Mallory put the paper down in her lap, fully focused on the news now. They were currently detailing a history of the Avengers, from Rogers back in the war. A little strike of pain, like striking a match, erupted in her heart when they showed some archive footage of the Howling Commandos, Bucky fighting alongside them with a sniper rifle. He looked so young… so normal. She wondered where he was. No, she didn't wonder. She stayed up at night aching to know, reading and rereading the letter he'd left her for any clues.

"If it wasn't for her, Rogers would be dead."

"You think so? You, one of the few people in the world who has been given close access to someone with the serum, think he would've ended up dead." Liam tightened his hand around her and said. "I'm sorry. I'm talking about them as if you don't know them. It must be hard seeing them get dragged like this."  
Mallory allowed her temple be kissed and murmured. "It's not easy. I get where you're coming from – really, Liam I do but… there's obviously a need for the Avengers. And they do get the job done."

"Do we have to settle for 'just getting the job done'? Why can't we demand more from our vigilante allies?"

He left the question hanging in the air and Mallory found herself musing. It was a discussion she felt that was being had all around the world, in bars, in restaurants, at family gatherings. Pro-Avengers forces arguing against people who thought they were doing more harm than good. The best arguments were ones where both sides had good points and they were also the worst type of arguments, because nobody was ultimately right. Mallory found herself inwardly cursing that she wasn't automatically more pro-Avengers then she'd thought. In a world were the protectors like the government and the police were becoming more survelliance-based, it made sense that the ultimate protectors would also be surveyed alongside the regular people like herself and Liam.

But then again, the surveyors had an agenda. Politics always came into play with things like this. It was how HYDRA had risen so high in S.H.I.E.L.D because S.H.I.E.L.D itself was the surveyors. Nobody watches the watchers.

"It's a sticky argument." Mallory said carefully. "I'm just glad my involvement with it all is over."

"How was the funeral?"

He hadn't asked at the time. About two weeks ago, Mallory had attended a sad ceremony with an empty coffin, as all of his body parts had been lost to the blast. She'd argued internally over going but ultimately decided the best thing to do would be to put him to rest for once and all. Only his ex-fiancé attended, a woman Mallory had remembered Rumlow mentioned once who had stayed for the initial ceremony then flew out of the door, and Rumlow's mother. An old Italian-American woman, who cupped Mallory's cheek and told her that Rumlow had always believed Mallory was the One. She'd came home, opened a bottle of whiskey, cried all night and eventually went to sleep dreaming of cold arms and blue eyes.

"It served it's purpose." Her mouth felt vile with the cliché that swam free. "He's in a better place now."

A knock on the door made them both jump. Liam caught Mallory's look and laughed, putting his beer bottle down to get up to answer it. Mallory caught a deep voice responding to Liam and looked past him; standing at the threshold was a very large man in a black suit.

"Uhm… Mal?"  
"Yeah?" His worried tone was worrying her and she stood, coming to stand beside him where the man in the suit looked her over and nodded.  
"The Secret Service are here. For you."

The entire affair smelled of the Avengers and Mallory folded her arms, "Who and where are you talking me?"

"Orders from the Secretary of State to bring Miss Smith to a classified location."

Mallory met Liam's confused look and rolled her eyes. "This classified location is in upstate New York, isn't it?"

The secret service agent bristled, and then promptly moved aside for her to follow him back down the stairs. Mallory reached in and kissed Liam on the cheek.

"Don't wait up."

As she guessed, Mallory was escorted to the Avengers HQ in upstate New York. The service agents lead the way to the meeting room, where through the glass décor she could see what looked like the entire team receiving a telling off. The man himself, the Secretary of State, was standing at the head of the table with his hands demonstrating what looked like a golf swing.

"-for twelve rounds." The door opened to Mallory's interruption and it seemed like nobody on the team had warned them of her arrival. Everybody looked surprised at her entry but nobody said anything. Mallory sank into the empty seat opposite Natasha and let out a heavy sigh, met by a wry grin from Nat.

"Anyway, now that everybody is here-" The Secretary shot her a very disgusted look as if it was her fault for being late. "-I can begin. I only mention golf because five years ago, I had a heart attack. I dropped right in the middle of my back swing. Turned out it was the best round of my life 'cos after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass I found something forty years in the army never taught me. Perspective."

He held the rooms attention, his deep voice washing over the group in baritone moves like the politician he was, compelling them. Mallory hadn't voted for his party and his appointment had came as a surprise, considering his mess of handling the Hulk back in the day.

"The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt." He continued on in a tight voice, as if he'd read Mallory's mind was annoyed at her recounting his failures. "You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives. But while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some would prefer the word vigilantes."

Natasha was almost amused when she responded. "And what word would you use, Mr Secretary?"  
"How about dangerous? What would you call a group of US based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will where ever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind."

A Secret Service agent darted out of the way and Secretary Ross pointed at the glass screen. It was illuminated suddenly, the pixels dissolving to form an image of the destruction the Avengers had left behind individually contained in four videos separated with black. Some ruined ice cave in the Arctic. The destruction of the Stark Expo. Lower Harlem being destroyed by the Hulk. The ruins of the university in London after the aliens had landed.

"And together, you all seem to cause more damage." The image dissolved to a main one, scenes of familiar skyscrapers bowing to familiar aliens. "New York."

A huge building crashing in to the ocean, amongst images of ambulance services diving into the aftermath. Her father had died in that building. Mallory looked down. "Washington DC."  
A city rising in the sky. "Sokovia."

A burst of red energy exploding in the sky, alongside shots of people lying dead in the rubble. "Lagos."

Wanda looked down. Behind her, Mallory heard Steve's voice. "Okay, that's enough."

Secretary Ross stopped the footage but Wanda was still looking down, her eyes a little shiny with guilt.

"For the past three years you've operated with unlimited power. That's an arrangement the government of the world will no longer allow. But I think we have a solution."

Another Secret Service agent handed him a bulky folder. Mallory saw the title; SOKOVIA ACCORDS before it was slid across the table toward Steve,

"The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries. It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organisation. Instead they'll operate under a supervision of a UN panel only when and if that panel deems necessary."

The mood in the room tightened. Steve spoke next, "The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I believe we've done that."

"Tell me Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?" He asked, and the way Steve quickly averted his gaze made the Secretary's thin mouth quirk into a smug smile. "If I misplaced a couple of 30 mega-tonne nukes, you can bet there'd be consequences. Compromise, reassurance, that's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground."

It felt like a threat. What would be the low ground then? Imprisonment of the Avengers. Mallory wasn't surprised but more importantly she was confused as to why she was even there in the first place. Tony's friend, the man she'd seen at the party, spoke next.  
"So, there are contingencies?"

Secretary Ross nodded. "Three days from now, the U.N meets in Vienna to ratify the accords. Talk it over."

Mallory had to say something. "May I ask why I'm even here? I'm not an Avenger."

The Secretary looked delighted she'd asked and said, "No, you're not an Avenger. You're considered an ally, however. Alongside Dr. Helen Cho and Dr. Erik Selvig."

"So why-"

"You, however, have a past affiliation with HYDRA. Your relationship as an Avengers ally puts you in… let's say, an odd situation." The Secretary pointed at the Accords. "The Accords would undo the committee judgement who pardoned you, Rogers and Miss Romanoff by allowing your former membership to HYDRA be put on your criminal record, alongside your father's and anybody else who was a registered member of HYDRA."

Mallory had never committed a crime in her entire life and yet these Accords would undo all her hard work. She'd never get another job again. How on earth would she able to support herself? Mallory was about to open her mouth again to express outrage when Natasha interrupted.

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?"  
The Secretary said it so simply. "Then you retire. Discuss it between yourselves. If you make the right decision, we'll see you in Vienna. If not..."

He left the words hanging as he left the room. Mallory was staring blankly at the wall, her mind whirling with the implication of what had just happened. She'd be a criminal. People would find out about her past affiliation with HYDRA and run her out of town. Her home would be covered in swastikas. This was a nightmare.

The argument erupted around her almost instantly and when Mallory tuned back in the Avengers had moved. Everyone was sitting around a small table, some silently processing and others disagreeing loudly. Steve was leafing through the Accords and when he saw Mallory approach, he looked sympathetic.

Tony's friend was yelling at Sam. ""Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honour which is one more than you."

Sam laughed, "Alexander Pierce was offered the Nobel Peace Prize."

"That doesn't-"

"So let's say we agree to this thing? How long is it gonna be before they low-jack us like a bunch of common criminals?" Sam asked. Mallory had to privately agree. Tony's friend rolled his eyes.

"117 countries wanna sign this. A hundred and seventeen and you're just like 'no, it's cool we got it-"

"Now, how long are you gonna play both sides!"

The man sitting next to Wanda, the odd man with the legendary skin and yellow gem inset in his forehead spoke up, silencing both men with, "I have an equation."

"Oh this'll clear it up." Mallory couldn't decide whether Sam was being sarcastic or genuine. Vision held the room with his commanding voice, much like the Secretary had.

"In the 8 years since Mr Stark announced himself as Iron Man the number of known enhanced individuals has grown exponentially. And during the same period the number of potentially world ending events has risen at a rate nobody could ever predict."

"Are you saying it's our fault?" Steve asked, sounding offended. It did sound like Vision was challenging him."

"I'm saying there may be a causality." His voice was calm enough to soothe any oncoming argument. "Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand."

Tony's friend look triumphant, saying softly, "Boom."

"Vietnam. Palestine. Iraq. Afghanistan. Syria. The first and second world wars. All of them catastrophes. All of those conflicts were started by politicians, not 'enhanced individuals'." Mallory said, narrowing her eyes. "The same politicians who sit on the UN council and make wartime decisions in the name of peace."

It was Sam's turn to look triumphant, "Boom."

"Syria's warfare is not quite comparable to what happened in New York." Vision countered. Mallory reeled, almost laughing, her voice acid when she spoke again.

"Doesn't matter if you're Chitauri or the Taliban. War is war."

Natasha's voice was soft when she sat next to Tony, smiling slightly, "Tony. You're being uncharacteristically non hyper-verbal."

"It's cos he's already made up his mind." Steve sounded bitter. Everybody watched as Tony swung his legs over his chair and clicked.

"Boy, you know me so well. Actually I'm nursing an electro-magnetic headache. That's what's going on Cap. It's just pain… discomfort… who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal?" He asked, annoyed, whirling to greet the confused stares of his co-workers."Am I running a bed and breakfast for biker gangs?"

Mallory frowned.

"Oh that's Charles Spencer by the way." Tony said, as his phone flashed a picture of a smiling teenage. "Great kid. Computer engineer degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor level intel gig, plan for the fall. But first he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't wanna go to Vegas which was what I would do, he didn't want to go to Paris or Amsterdam – sounds fun – he decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor – guess where? Sokovia."

Mallory saw the city flying in the sky in her minds eye and she sighed, sending a silent prayer hoping all who had died had done so quickly.

"He wanted to make a difference, I suppose, I mean we won't know 'cause we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass." Tony took a sip of coffee almost aggressively. ""There's no decision making process here. We need to be put in check. Whatever form that takes I'm game. If we can't accept limitation, we're boundless, we're no better than the bad guys."

Steve started slowly. "Tony, someone dies on your watch you don't give up-"

"Who said we're giving up?"  
"We are for not taking responsibility for our actions. This document-" Steve jabbed at the folder, "- puts some of our allies in danger and it just shifts the blame."

"Sorry but Steve, that is dangerously arrogant." Tony's friend sounded sad, "This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not S.H.I.E.L.D, it's not HYDRA-"

"No but it's run by people with agendas. And agendas change."

It was alike to what Mallory had said. She was surprised at naturally aligning herself with the Captain but she knew the unspoken kinship they'd shared. If the document affected Mallory's life, it would also affect James's.

"That's good." Tony seemed to be unaware of Steve's thought process, "That's why I'm here. When I realized my weapons were in the wrong hands, I shut it down, stopped manufacturing-"

"Tony, you chose to do that." Steve was almost laughing now "If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we think we shouldn't go? What if there's somewhere we need to go but they don't let us? We may not be perfect but the safest hands are still our own."

A silence descended.

"If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later. That's the fact. It won't be pretty."

"You saying they'll come for me?" Wanda asked. The Vision behind her shifted and turned his head towards her.

"We would protect you."

It seemed the two were connected more than Mallory had previously thought. Mallory narrowed her eyes at Vision.

"What if they decide to come for her regardless? Accountability is accountability, whether we're on their side or our own. If you sign that document and they come for her, you won't be able to protect her."

"Your personal feelings towards Agent Brock-" Vision began but Mallory cut him off.

"Wanda did the right thing and I don't blame her. She didn't cause his death. He caused his own."

Natasha was the one who interrupted to mini-argument, surprising everybody by saying, "Maybe Tony is right. If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-"

Everybody present whipped their heads toward her. Mallory's head was now swimming with betrayal. She'd sign the document that would place so much surveillance on Mallory's own head, her friend?

Sam was outraged, "Aren't you the same women who told that government committee to go fuck themselves a few years ago?"

"You'd sign it, knowing what would happen to me? I won't be able to support myself or my mother on just Liam's pay." _And James,_ she added silently. When James came back she wouldn't be able to support him either. The insurance money had almost run out, not helped by her mothers sudden slip into alcoholism, requiring an expensive rehab facility to nurse her better.

Natasha sighed and shook her head.

"I'm just… reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back. And it's not like you wouldn't be welcome to a job with us, Mal-"

Mallory stood but Tony took Natasha's attention away from her by saying, "Focus up. I'm sorry, did I just mishear you or did you-"

Their conversation faded into the background. Steve suddenly got up and left, as if he was too upset by the conversation to allow it to continue. Mallory felt too upset to stay as well and began striding towards the door.

"If you wait-" Tony called, "I can arranged a jet to take you home."

Mallory threw her head back to level him a deadly stare and said, "No thanks. I'll get my own ride. Keep me posted."

A/N: Bit of a break since the last chapter but the wheels are slowly in motion for this fic! Yay! Love you guys! Xx


	4. Longing

It was early evening when her phone seemed to break.

Her phone seemed to blare up simultaneously, with text alerts, Google alerts and a phone call. She was in the shower when it happened and Liam walked in on her exfoliating, scaring her so much she yelled and backed up into the spray.

"Just me!"

Mallory threw the soap at him, "Dick. Don't ever do that again."

"Nat's called about twelve times."

Mallory stomped out of the shower, covered in suds, still annoyed with her over betraying her at the Avengers meeting three days ago. Naked, Mallory wrapped a towel around herself and rolled her eyes when Liam's eyebrows waggled suggestively.

"Behave." She said, then grabbed her phone. She noticed all the notifications, texts from her mother and alerts from Twitter. She had a Google alert set to both James Barnes and the Winter Soldier and that was cropping up in her notifications. Worried suddenly, she barged past Liam and unlocked her phone.

 _Winter Soldier bombs UN meeting in Vienna. Wakandan King dead._ Winter Soldier was the number one trend on Twitter along with Pray for Vienna.

Mallory called Nat immediately. "What happened?"

"Someone bombed the UN building-"

Nat sounded shaky.

"Are you okay?" Mallory asked. Mallory heard Nat take a deep breath over the phone.

"Yeah. I'm... I'm fine. Have you seen the news?"

Mallory put the phone to her chest, calling to Liam. "Put the news on-"

"But the game-"

"Put the news on!"

Liam complied and Mallory saw the news showing the CCTV footage captured. Dressed casually, his head was somewhat obscure but the picture had been brightened, contrast sharpened. It was unmistakably him. Oh James... Dark eyes stared at the camera and it was like he was looking right at her. This was a nightmare. Liam was shaking his head at the screen.

"Where's Steve?" Mallory asked, putting the phone back up to her ear.  
"He's on his way." Nat replied, sounding annoyed, "The task force will decide who brings Barnes in."

"I'm coming." There was zero question about it.

"Mallory-"

Hearing that, Liam jerked, "Mal-"

"Nobody else understands his condition quite like me. That's even if it is him-"

Nat sighed, "The pictures-"

"If it's any chance it's him, he needs me. Stay safe, Nat. I'll be there soon." Mallory hung up and just sat there on the sofa, watching the news, feeling blind with panic. The images didn't register and all she could think was how frightened James was right now. Or glad. Had he done it? Had he bombed the building knowing that his life was going to be under threat if the Accords were passed? It seemed unlike him, unlike the James that Mallory knew.

Revitalised, she looked up at Liam. "Where's my laptop? I need to book a flight to Vienna."

She leapt up to head to the bedroom and Liam followed her, watching as she booted her laptop up and began to get dressed. He didn't say anything, watching as she searched for a flight. The next one was leaving in three hours and would take nine hours to actually get there. The cost was astronomical but she had a credit card; it seemed a small price to pay to see her friend again and make sure the authorities would treat him with the care he needed. Surely there was a way she'd be able to wheedle her way into the situation? Fully dressed, she was typing in her credit details when Liam finally spoke.

"Now I know he's your friend. Really Mal. I get it. He's your friend and your patient and you care about him a lot." Liam sighed. "But I can't let you do this."

"Sure you can." Mallory didn't add that no matter what he said, she was going and he couldn't make her do anything that she didn't want to do. "It's just until everything's sorted out."

"And when will that be?"

Mallory was shoving on her shoes, tying back her hair, wiping some concealer on to make her look a little less stressed. "I don't know. A couple of weeks, tops."

"I can't let you do this."

She'd started packing, throwing a couple of outfits in the bag. Logistical problems were starting to worry her; where was she going to stay? If she booked a return flight it would look like a holiday. Could she skirt by customs on Avengers membership if she got Tony or Natasha to pull some kind of diplomatic crap-

"Mal!" Liam had darted forward, quickly removing her hands from the bag. "I said, you're not going."

She lost her temper and found herself yelling, "And who said you had ownership of me?"  
"I am your boyfriend-"

"I am your girlfriend and if I say I'm going, I'm going. What's your problem?"

Liam finally exploded. "My problem is you ruining your life for him! He wouldn't want you do this, Mal! You've got a job interview tomorrow. My mother's birthday next week. What am I supposed to tell them? That my girlfriend doesn't care about me enough to stick around?"

"You know I care about you."  
"Well you're not showing it very well."  
"I'm trying to look after a friend. Why is that so difficult for you to understand?" Mal asked, continuing to pack.

He controlled himself somewhat and gently grasped her shoulders, "Every single time he's here or even mentioned, you become this weird cult follower who does whatever he says and goes where ever he goes. He says jump, you say how high."

"I do not-"

"He just bombed a UN building and you're thinking about his mind? You don't owe him anything."

Rumlow's words swam into her mind. _Show me a hot blooded male who isn't jealous watching his girlfriend living with an attractive guy with a tragic back story and I'll start knitting for a living._

"We don't know the full story." Mal pointed out, "And besides, I owe him everything. He saved my life-"

"And you saved his." He was pleading now, "You're quits. It's not healthy for you to drop your life for him."

"It's not healthy for you to be so jealous. So I can't have male friends now?"

"That's not what I said-"

"You implied it. Are you going to start putting a watch on me? Monitoring me? I had no idea you were so jealous, Liam."  
They were both just screaming at each other now. She wouldn't be surprised if an upstairs neighbour banged on the door or called the police.

"Fine. Fine! You want me to admit I'm jealous. There. I'm fucking jealous of him. You seem to care about him so much and me so little. It makes me wonder. Did something happen between you two? Is this why you care so much?" He'd followed her into the living room, as she carried her packed suitcase. "Did you fuck him?"

"Excuse me?" Her voice was lethally low.

"Did you fuck him? In your mom's house? Did you two have sex or something?"

"You are way, way out of line." That would be crossing a multitude of different boundaries but Liam was unable to tell how far he was pushing her now, to upset to think.

"Am I some kind of replacement for him? Your boyfriend ups and leaves in the middle of night so you just reel me back in until he blows something up? Really Mallory? Why are you attracted to such dangerous men? First Rumlow, a freaking Neo-Nazi who tricked you into a relationship and now him?"

"I'd rather be attracted to dangerous men then my usual type. Weak men. Pathetic men. Like you. Do you forget why we broke up in the first place?" Her blood was pounding in her ears. "Believe me, Liam, if I wanted a replacement for James I'd pick someone a little better than you." He reeled back, deflated, looking hurt and Mallory kept going, furious with him. "No, we didn't fuck as you so eloquently put it but it's none of your business if we did."

The argument ebbed away naturally. Liam, face filled with regret, stepped forwards with his arms outstretched but Mallory stepped back. She couldn't forgive him. If he couldn't understand her basic need to help people, especially former patients and now friends, then he didn't understand her.

"When I get back, don't be here."

"Mal-"

She kicked the door open, bag around shoulder, and strode down the stairs without listening to his pleas that followed her.

Her seat was in the lowest class and she was wedged between an overly talkative women and a very stressed looking mother who kept twisting in her seat to glance at her children.

The talkative women turned to her. "So, hon, you going to Vienna for business or pleasure?"

Mallory made a deliberate show of putting her headphones in before responding quietly, "Business."

9 hours passed in an anxious dream. She found herself drifting off on the shoulder of the talkative women. Cold arms held her in the night and she stared into the cool stare of the Solider, a wasp buzzing in the background, his voice soft as he spoke gibberish in her ear-

She jerked awake to a grey sunrise, a dry mouth and the voice of the captain blaring over the sound-speaker. She sent a quick text to Sam before the plane landed, and the procession of bodies began to move from the plane as quickly as possible.

Past customs and all of the travel obligations, Mallory was sticky and exhausted when she carried her case through the exit of the airport, Sam waiting outside by a blue car wearing dark sunglasses.

"Sweet car." Mallory said, gesturing to the Aston Martin beside him.

His smile was blinding in the bright dawn. "Thanks. Need a ride, slick?"  
"Ha-ha." Mallory threw her bag into the back seat and slid inside, where on the front seat Steve nodded at her through the rearview mirror. Mallory pulled her bag onto her lap as the car started moving. Sam took them through back streets, seemingly following directions from his phone on the seat beside him. Eventually they pulled up outside of a cafe in the middle of Vienna, and all three of them exited the vehicle.

Sam ordered some cake and a coffee, as Steve stepped outside to phone Nat.

"Why'd you come?" Sam asked suddenly, swallowing a mouthful of the cake. Mallory frowned at him.

"You know why I'm here." She tugged her hair free of the ponytail and allowed it to breathe in the breeze of the cafe, "If he's taken into custody, I'd like to act as his physician before he's transferred where ever he's going. If he even did it."

Sam swallowed. "There's CCTV footage. It doesn't look good."  
"My HYDRA membership doesn't look good." Mallory said, sliding into the seat beside him and sighing, "But it is what it is. There could be anything going on in his head right now. He's ill, not a criminal."  
"How bad was he? When he was with you?"

"He didn't like to talk about it. Ever." Mallory picked up the spoon the cake had been supplied with and scraped a top layer of frosting, sucking the chocolate off the spoon before answering, "He was bad. The trauma of brainwashing by itself is marginal but the serum on top of that? He was bad."  
"Hey. Get your own cake."

Mallory raised an eyebrow and scraped another layer of frosting.

"So in your professional opinion, what would be the best?"

"A U.S based psychiatric facility. Perhaps one with a high population of veterans so he can find common ground with people he's healing with. Support groups, medicine, therapy." Her voice dropping lower, she added, "Visitors allowed. And I'm going to tell them that."

"The task force might insist on imprisonment." He fixed her a serious look, "It doesn't look good, Mal."

Steve suddenly re-entered the cafe, putting his phone in his pocket and looking irritated.

"She tell you to stay out of it?" Sam asked then shook his head, "Might have a point."

"He'd do it for me."

"I just wanna make sure we consider all our options." Sam finished his cake and took a sip of his coffee before continuing with a wry grin, "The people who shoot at you usually wind up shooting at me."  
"At us." Mallory corrected before shrugging, "What other option do we have?"

A blonde girl came to stand next to them but before Mallory could ask why she was listening on the conversation with a low voice she started speaking to Steve without quite looking at him.

"Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody seems to think the Winter Soldier goes to their gym."

Mallory laughed, remembering how he liked to work out alone. "As if."

"Who's this?" The blonde girl asked.

Steve motioned to her, "Sharon, this is Mallory. She was Bucky's doctor back when he was with HYDRA. Mallory, this is Sharon. We can trust her."

"You're working with HYDRA-"

Sam cut in, "Ex-HYDRA."

Sharon's eyes narrowed. Mallory didn't miss the CIA jacket slung around her shoulders but still nodded at her, trying to appear non-threatening or non neo-Nazi. Sharon continued, hiking the zip on her jacket up.

"Most of its noise." The zip movement allowed her to slide a folder across the table carefully, "Except for this. My boss expects a briefing pretty much now so that's all the head start you're gonna get."

"Thank you."  
"You're gonna have to hurry." Sharon went to leave but reached out to touch Steve on the arm; the movement wasn't missed by both Sam and Mallory who winked at one another and hide a snigger. "We have orders to shoot on sight."

Shoot on sight? They had to leave for where ever the tip lead them instantly. Steve, Sam and Mallory hung around for a moment until Sharon had cleared the cafe completely then doubled back on themselves getting back into the car to go over the folder.

Steve flipped open the first page and read it in complete silence, before surrendering it to Sam who started scanning it.

"What?" The tension was killing her. "Where is he?"

"Bucharest." Bucharest? Mallory's geography was a little rusty but she was ninety percent sure that was in Romania. On further thought, she was sure it was the capital of Romania.

"Bucharest? So how we gonna get there?" Mallory sighed, "Be quicker by plane."

"You got cash?" Sam asked, finally handing over the file to Mallory. She took it and held it in her lap, her teeth worrying her lower lip.

"I'll get them." Steve said, "Here's my card."

Mallory booked the tickets in an internet cafe a couple of blocks from the cafe they'd just sat in. Vienna to Bucharest by plane was an hour and a half and the next flight was in fifty minutes so Steve drove them to the airport, Mallory skimming through the file which had reported the tip on the Winter Solider:

TIP NO: 125

CALLER: Anonymous

LOCATION: Peach Trees Apartments, Sonata Street, Bucharest, Romania

DESCRIPTION: Anon. stated that a very similar looking man had been renting out one of the apartments in her block. She said he lived alone. Also stated that he had not left the apartment since last Sunday yet she speculated 'maybe he went out of the back door and I just didn't see him'. Said he was quiet, kept to himself but was always polite.

Mallory had travelled more in the last day or so than she'd ever had and she was completely exhausted, falling asleep on the hour and half long plane journey to Romania. Steve jerked her awake at the airport and they spent a couple of moments in the bathroom, where Mallory changed her shoes to slightly more durable running shoes and brushed her teeth and both Steve and Sam came out kitted in their full gear.

Mallory spat out the mouthful of minty paste and said, "You're both going to freak the hell out of the Romanians."

Sam snorted and even Steve offered a small smile. Mallory drove them to the apartment block from the rental car service at the airport, dropping Sam off a few blocks ahead so he could run surveillance and tell them if anybody came to disrupt the welcoming party. They all agreed Mallory should stay in the car in case of any type of disruption happened. She was reluctant but knew agreeing was the only way to get everyone moving.

Mallory pulled up on the road just outside of the apartment block he had been living in. Both Mallory and Steve leant forwards and Mallory knew they were both thinking of Bucky as they stared up at the block, wondering which floor he had taken, if he liked it, his feelings and how he was. Mallory, lost in thought, found herself teary to think of him all alone in that building.  
"He'll be okay." Steve said, sounding almost reassuring. "He's always okay."

Mallory hated to through her connection with him in Steve's face but she had to, hesitantly biting her lip and saying, "You don't know James."

"I've known him since I was-"  
"You know Bucky." Mallory countered, "Who he was. Don't apply that guy to this one. They're very different people."  
"I disagree."

"You can't disagree with science. Sure, some things can't ever go away." Silently, Mallory ticked them off. His compassion. His humour. His looks. "But he's been through so much it can't not change him slightly. Kinda like yourself. I'm sure you're a different man now then who you were."

"True. Any tips?"

Steve Rogers, kitted out in his full Cap gear, asking for her advice? Mallory had to struggle not to laugh. Her life truly had changed from the shy girl who had been sacked from her job all those years ago.

"Don't overwhelm him. But don't lie. Try and make him aware of how urgent this situation is." Mallory took a deep breath, "Tell him I said hi. He might feel better knowing I'm with you."  
Or worse. Steve nodded and for once she felt like she'd shared a genuine moment with the Captain clear of any mutual hostility between the pair. She supposed they both shared one thing in common; a deep connection to the man who lived in that building. Mallory watched Steve be swallowed by the block until he disappeared from view and she was left alone, tapping her fingers on the dashboard waiting for the Avenger to report with some news, be it good or bad.

A/N: New chapter! Hope you enjoyed! Leave a review, or follow and favourite for more content coming soon! Love you all xx


	5. El Rey

STEVE

His apartment was even lonelier than Steve expected.

Lonely and bare. Only the essentials remained but it felt like everything that made a house a home had been stripped clean. No pictures, no pillows, no kitschy quotes painted on the wall. The bones of a home. His 'bed' was a mattress, a singular pillow and a very drab chequered blanket haphazardly lain across it. The fact it didn't quite cover the corners made Steve in a way that he couldn't explain.

A brown tinge of dust seemed to have settled on everything, dirt, filth, as if he hadn't cleaned up after himself in a while. The windows offered poor light from the wallpaper Bucky had seemed to have pasted over it but his super solider vision could still see the small marks of dirt covering the area. It was another nail in the not Bucky coffin that Mallory seemed to have constructed; although Bucky wasn't a neat freak, he did tidy up after himself. Steve sighed, walking towards the fridge and noticed a notebook hiding under a stack of protein bars.

Steve opened the first page but the notebook naturally fell open near the middle. With a jolt, he found himself staring at himself, a printed picture of an old-timey Captain America photograph, back when he was a media figure instead of a military hero. He wondered, as he always did when he saw these types of pictures, how many men had been inspired to join the army due to these pictures and just how many had died.

"Heads up, Cap." Sam's voice came through, clear and calm over the radio implanted in his ear. "German special forces approaching from the South."

Mallory cut in, sounding a little more anxious, "Assault rifles. Full body armour. The whole shebang."

"Understood." Steve replied.

Steve sensed him before he heard or saw him. At first it felt like a sixth sense was tingling, like his mind was being invaded by an unseen force. Then it was more ordinary, a prickle on the back of his neck that noted a pair of eyes were watching him. Steve wondered how he'd came into the room without him noticing but remembered his skills as the Soldier were on par with his own. He turned and saw his friend standing before him.

Steve could barely hide the sharp inhale. Bucky, here and now and exactly what he hoped to see. Then, the rose-tinted glasses lifted and he really saw him. A tall man who was muscled but still haggard, an unhealthy pallor to his skin and clearly second hand clothes. Bucky would've been glad to see Steve, perhaps even excited. A part of him had still been counting on his memory returning but he saw that was fruitless as Bucky was just watching him cautiously, as if he were nothing but a very hungry, very rabid dog wandering the streets.

"Do you know me?"  
Damn. He wasn't meant to say that. He was supposed to ask if he was okay. Not demand if he knew who he was. Bucky looked unaffected, flatly responding.

"You're Steve." Steve's heart took another pierce at how bored he looked. "I read about in a museum."  
Sam spoke again, "They've set the perimeter."  
Which translated vaguely into _hurry the fuck up, they're coming_. Steve put the notebook down on the small island opposite his pathetic kitchen, and took a cautious step forward, keeping his shield raised slightly in case he reacted badly.

"I know you're nervous." He wondered the best way to approach him and Mallory's words swam in his mind. _Don't overwhelm but don't lie_. It was good advice, even if it came from a bad source. "You have plenty of reason to be. But I know you're lying."

"I wasn't in Vienna." He said, hurriedly, "I don't do that anymore."

Sam spoke again, sounding a little more rushed. "They're entering the building."

"Well the people who think you did are coming here now and they're not planning on taking you alive."  
"That's smart." Bucky responded, nodding with his eyes distant, "Good strategy."

Mallory sounded deathly afraid when her voice buzzed, "Oh god."

Sam followed her, "They're on the roof. I'm compromised."  
Hearing Mallory's voice reminded him of her other instruction. "Mallory's here?"  
Steve was questioning. He wasn't quite aware of the extent of their relationship – he knew she had kept him under her roof without telling Steve, something that was a huge obstacle that he wasn't sure he could ever overcome. But that didn't communicate much about there relationship. Was it just friends? Patient doctor? HYDRA looking after one of their projects?

All doubt wiped from his face as for the first time, Bucky showed emotion other than suspicion or doubt. Hope. Real, unbarred hope flashed across his face as his eyes widened in shock and his stance become somewhat softer. It was friendly, then.

"She's here?" Bucky's eyes scanned behind him, as if Steve had been hiding Mallory behind his shoulder. "Right now?"

Perhaps it was more than friends. Bucky sounded almost breathless with anticipation and nervousness and _excitement._ Steve's eyebrow raised briefly in surprise but he nodded.

"Yeah. She's outside in the car, waiting for us."  
On unfortunate queue, both men heard the thundering footsteps of the German special forces team beginning to come upstairs. Bucky turned his head to the sound.

"Get her away from this." He warned, his voice losing all compassion and hope and returning to it's usual gruffness. Steve took a step forward.

"This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck."

He was almost pleading. Arms open, welcoming him home. Please don't do this, part of him begged. But Bucky was assuming a fighting stance.

"It always ends in a fight."

The time was coming. But Steve couldn't wait. His voice was loud. "You pulled me from that river. Why?"  
Bucky pulled off his glove and for the first time, Steve saw his cybernetic arm as he sighed. "I don't know."

Sam was stressed. "Thirty seconds!"

Mallory was more stressed. "What's taking you so long?!"  
"Yes you do." Steve countered and then he saw an unguarded expression. Bucky looked at him, for seemingly the first time, warmly like he was agreeing.

Then the moment was lost to memory as Sam started squawking, "Breach, breach breach!"  
The pasted up windows broke as someone threw a smoke-bomb in the apartment. Steve deflected it with his shield. Another bomb was thrown, a flash bang this time and Bucky kicked it towards Steve, the two of them automatically double teaming as Steve caught the blast inside the shield. Bucky nodded and it seemed they'd be able to get away until Steve caught someone yelling the German word for 'go' and the apartment door crumpling under the stress of a battering ram.

Then all hell broke loose.

MALLORY

It was maddening. She heard the gunfire and the screaming citizens and the shattering glass but Mallory couldn't see anything from her vantage point, overlooking the towering apartment building of Peach Trees. She even heard the fight play out between Sam and Steve, but was unwilling to interject for fear of putting them off doing whatever they were doing. She saw the teams going in but so far nobody had come out; none of the teams, their support or even the Captain or Bucky. Her eyes were starting ache from straining to watch and she was considering abandoning her post as certified getaway driver to going to have a physical look. They'd even left her a handgun, a tiny one that could only fire six rounds before needing to be manually reloaded but hell, a gun was still a gun. The only thing that was stopping her was the rare chance of them still emerging and the thought Steve would hate her more since she'd left them.

But that all changed when Sam spoke urgently in her ear. "Mallory. They're on the freeway heading towards the city centre. Can you get there?"  
Practically leaping out of her seat, she leapt into gear and thanked her father endlessly for teaching her how to drive stick shift. "I'm on it."

Mallory was speeding. Speeding, god forgive her Hippocratic oath, so fast that too many pedestrians were yelling and leaping out of her way. The road signs were written in Romanian but it was easy to decipher which way that was; Romanian was one of those wonderful languages were some words although pronounced differently, were spelt similar to their English counterparts and it just so happened the word for centre was 'centrul'. A few moments later, she had made the correct few turns and was soon speeding down a freeway underneath the city.

It was easy to spot them. Who else would be crazy enough to be free-running down a busy road? Three men, so it seemed. Mallory squinted but couldn't make anybody out properly. She saw the shield but not much else. She had to get closer.

Mallory wove in and out of traffic, wishing she was driving something much smaller like a motorbike or those tiny one seater cars to be able to dodge traffic more effectively. She was getting closer now and the cars were smartly avoiding her and allowing her roam to quickly join the running men. How on earth were they running so fast? She saw James, healthy but stressed, running with a bobbing backpack surrounding his shoulders. A man she didn't know was running after him, giving chase in an odd black one-piece, his face covered by a mask. Steve was giving chase to both of them, his shield firmly affixed to his back but acting as the guiding beacon for Mallory follow.

Her heart leapt to her mouth when she realized the real reasons cars were avoiding her. A siren filled the claustrophobic space of the freeway. Multiple sirens and black cars were following her path by speeding and weaving through the cars. Mallory had to do something but her inner angel was preventing her from ramming her car into the siren one that was wailing beside her.

Steve took the initiative though, jumping on the car and lying vertically across the windshield to crack it, and to distract the driver. Mallory's mouth was open and she almost forgot she was still driving, passing Steve as he punched through the windshield and got into the car.

"I'm following!" He announced over the comms, "Keep going!"  
The two men had started jumping on the cars and Steve was taking the heat for their trails, so Mallory could zip forward to join Bucky near the front of the pack. Her palms were sweating now, sliding down the plastic steering wheel but she didn't dare take her hands from it, afraid she would panic and swerve and crash and render the whole thing a complete waste of time. Wheels behind her were screaming and Mallory was starting to grow really anxious.

"Sam, I can't shake this guy!"

What guy? Mallory checked a look and Jesus Christ, the man in the odd one-piece was on his car and Steve was swerving but he just wouldn't get off.

"I got this!" Sam replied.

The police seemed to be getting closer. They were reaching the end of the freeway and predictably, some cars had gotten the jump by blocking the exit. A particularly fierce white van swerved in front of James, intending to knock him over. Mallory seemed to swallow down her heart back into her chest alongside a tonne of anxious bile but thankfully, he avoided it by returning to the opposite side, where all the cars were speeding the other direction. Mallory swerved faithfully to join him, aware she was breaking about a thousand laws.

The freeway opened up, to sun and light. Mallory took the moment to wipe her palms on her jeans but it was the wrong moment; James had commandeered a motorcycle, knocking it's driver off safely and mounting it in the opposite direction all whilst stopping it. Mallory hurriedly gripped the wheel, jaw hanging to the ground, and a did a very illegal, very dangerous 180' spin. She couldn't catch up with James quite yet; he had gotten a head start but she could follow his tail, a very aggressive and very swerving police car.

From nowhere, the man in the one-piece jumped at James but his hearing was super solider levels and he caught him by the throat, still managing to keep control of his vehicle as he rammed the man into the wall.

"You seeing this?" Mallory heard herself say and only the stunned grunt of Steve responded.

The man kicked free and the bike became unsteady with the weight. Again, James stunned by using his cybernetic arm to act as a brake, the cybernetics getting a tough ride as they threw sparks off the tarmac. He managed to throw the man free but she heard, over the roar of vehicles and the din of the sirens, the grunt the act had forced from James's throat. He was tiring. This had to end soon.

Mallory didn't see what happened but she saw James's arm extend and hover. What was he waiting for? Mallory passed under the darkness phase back into the light and saw him toss something. Was it a bomb? An enormous crack shook the ground beneath her and her rearview mirror caught her attention. It was a bomb and he was bringing down the foundations of the freeway to clear it. _He'd waited until she was clear._

He hadn't waited for Steve but the super solider escaped, leaping from the car door and breaking into a sprint to join the three men at the overpass. Mallory knew this was the end of this ridiculous action-movie car chase and slammed on the breaks, instantly regretting it as her head just briefly kissed the top of the plastic steering wheel, her neck cracking with the force. The car screamed in protest but came to a whistling halt just by the men as the police were finally catching up.

Steve had just tackled the one-piece man and James was still lying on the ground, a little stunned at what had just happened. Mallory hadn't realized she had the gun clamped tightly in her hands until it was raised, aiming at the scene over the car window.

The one-piece man straightened up and a stare down was initiated between the Captain and him. Mallory left the gun on the bonnet and sprinted, just as the police also ground their cars to a screaming halt, surrounding them in sirens that cast them all in an inhumane blue glow. They were in big trouble. Breathless, Mallory stumbled forward toward James almost for help and he extended an arm, as if to catch her in case she were to fall. Steve stopped them both, lifting his own arm to protect them both but also to prevent them from moving further, for fear of open fire from the surrounding police forces.

A metallic thump was heard and the ground shook and one of the Iron Man suits stood, palms raised threatingly to the foursome. The Iron Patriot, or as he had been War Machine stood strong. His gun cocked in James direction and Mallory took a step forward.

"Stand down. Now."

Mallory recognized the voice as Tony's friend, the man she had learnt later was Rhodey. The police had exited their vehicles and were also aiming their weapons towards them. Mallory was near to tears and she made her first real eye contact with James and almost fainted literally.

God. God, why was he looking at her like that? With that unguarded, rare, unnerving softness? That wasn't a look meant for here, out in the open with guns trained on you. In her mind she saw candle light and dark rooks and wafting curtains. In the end, he was happy to see her and despite the guns on her, and the impending imprisonment and the third black mark against the Smith family name, she was so happy to see him too and offered him a small, gentle smile.

"Congratulations Cap." Rhodey practically spat, as Steve replaced his shield to his back. "You're a criminal."

The guards were starting to surround them properly now. Sam came, seemingly, from out nowhere and was slowly being herded toward them, to join their foursome.

More guns were being pointed at the unknown man in the one-piece. He was raising his hands slowly, above his head, slowly to indicate he meant no harm to anybody unless your name was James Barnes. Mallory watched someone force James to the ground and cuff him, calmly cuff Steve whilst he was still handing then proceed to cuff her. Handcuffs. The soldier who'd cuffed her did them tight enough for her to gasp slightly.

The one-piece man lifted his hands quickly and released his helmet from his face. She expected not to recognize who was underneath but she did. He'd shadowed his father at the press statements, for the business with Ultron in Wakanda last year and the recent join partnership with the UN. T'Challa, Prince of Wakanda.

"So you like cats?"

The statement was absurd, but it was also the only thing anybody had said in almost an hour of being driven by armoured escort. Mallory had stopped treating this as unusual occurrence. It had happened in Russia, on the highway, in Lagos and probably many times in between she'd forgotten about. Hell, she used to be driven to work by an armoured escort! Her commute was done with a pretty black SUV and men with assault rifles.

"Sam." Steve said but his heart wasn't in it. It had to be hard, Mallory reasoned, for him to see James so briefly then to have him snatched away.

"What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don't wanna know more?"  
Steve sighed, turning to the back of the king's head and asking, "Your suit… vibranium?"

A distant memory pinged. From the museum she had visited with James. Vibranium was the same material Steve's shield was made from.  
The king ignored his question. "The black panther has the been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle passed from warrior to warrior. Now because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king. So I ask you, as both warrior and king, how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?"

The group fell silent again as they pulled into the secret facility James was going to be interrogated in.

Mallory was just let out of the car at the same moment James's cell was being moved. They had him completely immobilized, locked at all joints with six inch steels. Mallory was horrified. This went crossing the line into protection and incarceration. In fact, as they started towards the familiar blonde woman standing with her CIA colleagues, Mallory was 100% sure it was breaking a few international laws.

"What's going to happen?" Steve asked, his voice barely restrained from the anger Mallory could also feel swelling in her chest.  
"Same thing that ought to happen to you. Psychological evaluation then extradition."

The blonde woman, Sharon, looked apologetic as a small man in an expensive grey suit responded.

"This is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander." She said it in a way that insinuated she also had made the spilt second decision Mallory was making that she hated this man to his core.

"What about a lawyer?" Steve asked and rightfully so, as Mallory had been wondering the same thing.

"Lawyer. That's funny." Ross laughed but dodged the question, "We'll see those weapons placed in lock up. We'll write you a receipt."

As if on cue, she watched two men walk past lugging Steve and Sam's gear. Sam sounded pissed when he said, "I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in that."

Ross turned and everyone seemed satisfied to walk off in that direction but Mallory wasn't satisfied one bit, planting herself in the ground and saying, "Excuse me?"

Ross turned back to her and said, "Yes?"  
"Psych eval and extradition." Mallory quoted. Ross, Sam, Steve and Sharon all came back to where they had previously been standing, all of them looking confused at her sudden outburst but Mallory soldiered on, "I don't hear you mentioning any physical examinations."

"We've done that ourselves-"  
"Medical and psych evals are both legal requirements and rights of incarcerated prisoners on both American and Romanian soil, no matter the crime."

Ross ignored her, smiling again, "You must be Mallory."

"Dr Smith." Mallory corrected and she caught Sam's smile that lifted the corners of his mouth.

"I assume you'll be volunteering for this task? What with you and Barnes's shared history." Ross continued, sounding completely amused with the situation which served only to irritate her more.

"Unless you can come up with a satisfactory alternative, then yes, I'll volunteer for the task."

Ross sighed and the mask of humour cracked. He looked around his CIA buddies for support but they all seemed unwilling to join the conversation. Meanwhile, Steve and Sam stood as support pillars by her side but Mallory wasn't feeling her usual shyness or shaking knees.

"We're not exactly following procedure with this case." Ross folded his arms, meeting her defensiveness with his own, "We have the best doctors. Better than one who was let go by her hospital department after four years of dedicated service. The best psychiatric services. Believe me, _Dr. Smith,_ he will be well cared for."

He was openly mocking her now. The snipe physically wounded Mallory but she hide her internal grimace by raising an eyebrow, attempting to appear blank. "A psych eval sanctioned by the same task force who also ordered his incarceration. Of course, nobody in the US will care about bias's but the international stage certainly will."

He caught what she was implying and said, "We're following procedure-"  
"So you're following procedure when it comes to your own gains but when it comes to the safety and transportation of the prisoner, you suddenly refuse to?" Now Steve was smiling slightly. Ross on the other hand had gone slightly white, "I believe not offering a medical examination is against several terms of the Geneva Convention and several of the US's own laws regarding the health rights of prisoners extradited to and from the United States. Besides, sending me in there is a benefit to your task force and to your case."  
"And how is that?"  
"I was his doctor at HYDRA." She hated bringing it up but had to, "Not to brag, but I'm really the only person in the world with the remaining knowledge on his specific case, condition and needs. He knows me and more importantly, he trusts me enough to believe whatever I say including asking him to be truthful with UN psychiatrist."

Ross was starting to come around. "You're telling me that you'll calm him down?"

"Put a mic on me. Video it. I don't care. Just let me see him."

Ross looked at her for what felt like an age, then gestured to Sharon. Sharon handed him a folded up bit of paper and Ross gave that paper to Mallory, almost accusingly.

"You got ten minutes." The paper was now in Mallory's hands, "That was in his pocket."

As Mallory was being escorted towards his cell, she unfolded the paper in her hands. It was a picture of her.

A/N: Thank you for keeping up with me! Love you all! Review, fave and follow and I'll send virtual hugs (since u can't send real ones)! xx


	6. Nostalgia

Mallory couldn't stop staring at the picture.

It was her. Her, in all her messy haired, pasty face glory. She wasn't wearing any makeup and it took a while to place where she was; her back garden around four years ago. The camera work was Liam's, slightly out focus on her and there was an arm around her shoulder, the cuffed sleeve of her father. James had folded that bit over and when she pulled it up she saw the equally pasty face of Sampson Smith, smiling at Liam directly whereas Mallory was looking at the lens.

She turned it over. Her address was written on the back. Well, her mother's address. Underneath that was her current phone number.

Why did he have this? Why was it in his jacket pocket? Why had he stolen this from her home? The questions ran through her mind as she was escorted to the cell he was in. The guard stopped outside of the small room and Mallory let herself in, surprised at how much the clinical surroundings reminded of the bunker where they'd first met. How appropriate.

He looked up when the door sounded and the once-blank look of his eyes faded with some semblance of a smile as she sat down at the table opposite his cell. One hand on the desk, she used the other to discreetly put the picture in her pocket, choosing to not mention it unless the time was right.

A moment passed and they were just awkwardly studying each other. Mallory didn't know what to say. Her voice had dried up and her thoughts were all over the place. She'd assumed this was a medical examination but nobody had given her any tools or even unlocked him from his cage. Perhaps Ross had seen through her smoke-screen of professional concern and knew she'd just wanted to talk to him. Hell, even just seeing him with her own two eyes was enough!

A memory clawed its way to the surface. The first time they'd met, with that misty eyed nostalgic tint, of him having a hand to her throat perceiving her as a threat. She cleared her throat and knew exactly what to say then, the words coming easily.

"Do you remember your name?"

He caught on and nodded, "No."

"Do you remember your duty?"  
"Yes. To serve."

She imagined everybody watching them on the little camera, confused as to why they were having such a mechanical chat when they were supposed to be friends.

"How do you feel?"

"A little dizzy. Hungry, mainly."

It was surprising he remembered so much. Mallory broke the illusion and laughed, glad the feeling of awkward study had evaporated. James was smiling too, despite his situation, shifting in his cage to get more comfortable. He looked like an uncomfortable and pissed off king, strapped to his throne for eternal servitude.

"That doesn't look comfortable." She said, gesturing to the cell.

"You haven't seen me in so long and that's what you ask?"  
Mallory blushed and ducked her head. "Sorry. I just..."

"I know." He was teasing her, "I wish we'd reunited under slightly less… constricting circumstances."

"Where would we go?"  
He tilted his head slightly and said, "I don't know."

"Dinner?"

His smile was so gentle. "Anywhere nice?"

"Well, you've always liked that Greek takeaway around the corner from my mom's."

The two shared a smile but Mallory couldn't help but bring the mood way down to match the situation they were in. "I can't believe I'm even seeing you again."

"Huh?"

"I never thought I was gonna see you again. Didn't believe it."

"Didn't you get my letter?"  
"Yes."  
"I said I was going to come back-"  
"Why didn't you tell me?" She interrupted quietly, "I would've understood. You left a good place with good people around you. I imagined you'd gone somewhere nice. Imagine my surprise when I find out you've been living in some shitty apartment in the middle of a crappy neighbourhood all by yourself like some basement-dwelling hermit. That couldn't have aided your recovery. And Romania? What the hell is in Romania?!"

"Seemed… appropriate. I remembered my mom was half-Romanian." And then he added, with a frown, unnecessarily in Mallory's opinion, "Before the war, when I was Bucky."

"What the hell did you even do for two years?"

"I'd rather not talk about it here." He replied with a shrewd look to the camera. Mallory rolled her eyes and leaned forward.

"Forget them. Tell me."

There was a long pause.

"I was writing." He said finally, "My memories." He added, when he saw her questioning look.

The time felt right. Mallory reached into her pocket and touched the top of the photograph, speaking quietly. "Is that why you had a picture of me?"  
"I wanted to remember your face." He didn't seem to recognize how both creepy and romantic that was, "So that if I ever forgot, I'd still have that so I could find you."

That explained the address. Mallory withdrew her hand from her pocket and folded her arms, leaning back in her chair.  
"I didn't do it."

She was offended he even thought he had to say that. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Liam reminded her of the CCTV footage, the twin of the Winter Soldier spotted near the UN building. "I know."

"You shouldn't have come."

"What did you expect me to do?"  
"You shouldn't have come. I've gotten you in trouble."

"James-"  
"You need to go home." His voice was low and filled with authority. She almost laughed.  
"If it were me, you'd come, wouldn't you?" He remained silent but to her, that just said it all. She chuckled. "Why are you any different?"  
"I don't-"  
"Let me guess. You don't deserve this? All the help and support you're getting." She leaned forward, "You do deserve this and don't insult me by telling me you don't or telling me to go home like I'm nothing to you. I'm riding this out with you. We all are."

"You might go to jail."

"Then we can rot together."

"Mal-"  
"You don't get to decide what I do with my life." Mallory said, defiant till the end. "I do and if I want to put myself in harm's way for you, then I will. You can't stop me."

Annoyed, James huffed and sat back in his chair, straining so he seemed to be recoiling from the very sight of her.

"You have people back home who care about you. Who need you. Your mother… Liam."

She wanted to correct him but found herself viewing her romantic entanglements in a new angle. Would he think she dropped everything to come find him? How would it look, if the situation was reversed and James revealed his mother was in rehab and he'd spilt with his girlfriend on the off-chance he'd see her again? It'd be… creepy. Heartfelt. Romantic. Weird. Mallory, suddenly embarrassed at far she'd jumped for him, played it off as a shrug.

"You need me more right now. Especially if you're going to pursue this self-deprecation crap."

A knock suddenly reverberated through the now silent cell. Her minute warning that she was going to be pulled away to be read her charges, or imprisoned or whatever they wanted to do with her. Mallory stood and James's eyes followed her, as she dragged her chair around the table and left it in front of his cell, taking her new seat so they were much closer. She leaned forward and rested a palm on the glass in a comforting gesture, and James's hard face softened at her.

"I'm sorry you're here." Her voice was quieter, strained with worry, "If the worst comes and you're prosecuted, I'll vouch for you-"  
"Mal-"

"Ssh." She murmured it as if she were talking to a child, "I'll vouch for you. Get you somewhere nice where I can see you. It's going to be okay, James."

The door opened. The guard who had escorted her stepped through and she could feel his eyes staring daggers at the back of her head. She lifted herself from the chair and still, eyes trained on James's form, walked backwards from the room. James raised his shackled-hand and waved his fingers in a goodbye gesture, that made her throat tighten and made it difficult to swallow.

She passed a blonde man who was also being guided towards James's cell by an escort and her brain pinged. She stopped her own escort, whirled on her feet and called down the hall.  
"Excuse me?" They kept walking so Mallory caught up with them, "Excuse me!"  
He turned. Blonde, he was far taller than her. He looked presentable enough, with polished and designer glasses settling atop his nose and a navy jumper.

"Do you speak English?"  
The man nodded, "Yes. May I ask-"  
"I'm Dr. Smith. I was the physician assigned to James- um, Mr Barnes's case."

His eyes, dark brown almost like her own, brightened with interest. "Oh. Well in that case, it's very nice to meet you Dr. Smith."  
They shook hands and she registered the sheer number of callouses on the inset of his palm. Odd for someone who didn't use his hands much. Mallory frowned slightly as they withdrew but she realized how rude that was and composed her face into a polite smile.

"How is he?"  
"He's… shaken." She folded her arms, remembering his little smile when she entered and how furious he became when he realized she was going to say, "I'm afraid he probably won't be very welcoming."

"Well that's expected. When was his last memory wipe?"  
Mallory pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to remember, "God. A while back."  
"I imagine he remembers much of his past."  
"He tries to forget." She said, "It's painful."  
"Any specific trauma he recalls?"  
Mallory tilted her head to the side, a little perplexed at the question, "That would be violating patient confidentiality."  
"Of course. Of course. I forget myself." He pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose and said, "I hear you're the world's foremost expert on brainwashing sciences."

Mallory arched an eyebrow, amused, "Expert? Is that what they told you? I have a good memory, that's all. Zola was the true genius behind the Winter Soldier programme. His research was moved to Department X which was blasted to smithereens some time ago. All we have left was what I read and my notes on the subject."

Which, when she thought about it, would make her the world's foremost expert on brainwashing sciences. A depressing thought, since there were many in neuroscientists in the field who had studied it but none who had witnessed the true effect in hand. There were many examples of brainwashing neuroscientists could use, such as the psychological effects of cults, religion to a lesser extent and even the social conditioning of countries through wartime propaganda. But none matched to the true psychological achievement of James's case.

Mallory practically slapped herself for thinking of it in such cold, clinical terms but it was. It was a scientific achievement to achieve a level of subjugation and control over an individual through the matters of external and internal conditioning, no matter how horrible the patient suffered.

She supposed, in a way, it would be comparable to the effects of Mengele and his kind, and the experimentations he did on his unwilling prisoners. They were vile, unscientific processes but sometimes, just sometimes… the results could be used to save lives in the future. It was the way her father and Pierce had gone about it, that ends justify the means mentality. _God, never tell anyone you just thought that._ She thought to herself, frowning. _You're supposed to be ex-HYDRA._  
"Department X?"

Mallory was brought away from her thoughts, composing herself once more to smile politely.  
"The facility HYDRA kept Ja- Mr Barnes contained in." She explained. The psychiatrist nodded, pushing the glasses once more up his nose as if they weren't a proper fit.  
"And this was before 2001?"  
Mallory gave a short laugh, "Is this an interrogation or a chat?"

"I'm just trying to gather personal perspectives of the patient, Dr. Smith. Who else would know so much about him?"  
"No." She decided, answering the question with as much honesty as she could muster, "Department X was the facility they transferred him too after 9/11. Pierce thought it'd be better to have an asset on American soil in case we were attacked in such a way again. Before that he was hidden away by the Soviets somewhere."  
He arched an eyebrow, "You don't know where."

"No. Too high above my clearance. I didn't catch your name."  
He pushed the glasses up again, "I'm-"

The guard stepped in, annoyed at how the conversation had eaten into a lot of time. "We have to go, sir."

"Sorry. It was nice to meet you, Dr Smith."  
And with that he hurried away. Mallory lingered in the corridor, watching him go, a little perplexed at how uninformed the man seemed. It just showed that the UN was poorly managed and clocked in another reason why the Accords were a bad idea.

Mallory was escorted back into a room. Everybody was standing around a very tall dining table, topped with one of those expensive conference phones. Mallory tucked a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear and sought out Sam, who was sitting calmly drumming his fingers against the table. Once he saw her standing next to Sam, Steve came over, looking agitated.  
"How is he?" He asked breathlessly.

"Fine. A little shaken up, a little scared I think. But he's fine."  
Steve looked uncomfortable as he said, "Thanks for what you did. They would've never let me see him."

Mallory was equally as uncomfortable, responding with a small nod and, "It's no problem."

Both of their eyes focused on the screens just above them. There was no sound but Mallory could see the UN psych man pulling up a chair and James didn't look all that impressed with the intrusion. She fingered the photograph of herself in her pocket. The sliding doors opened and Sharon stepped through. She tossed her hair and slid a bit of paper across the desk toward Sam.

"Receipt for your gear." She announced, coming to stand over by Steve. Mallory was struck by how close they stood and the constant almost-flirtatious gazes they exchanged with each other.

"Bird costume?" Sam asked, sounding outraged. Sharon turned to him and shrugged.

"I didn't write it."

Casually, Sharon leaned to the side and her hand pressed the conference phone. Suddenly, there was a live feed on one of the screens in the room with them, accompanied by sound. Steve and Mallory both exchanged a glance of weariness then one of thanks to Sharon.

"- _not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions_." The psychiatrist was saying, " _Do you know where you are James_?"  
James stared solidly ahead, unwilling to meet the cameras eyes or even the eyes of the man who was asking the questions.

" _I can't help you if you don't talk to me_." The psychiatrist said, gently pressing him. Mallory shifted so Steve could walk around her, and she watched him pull out the file containing the picture the task force had released. His eyes were scanning the picture incessantly, then looking back up to the screen where his friend was shifting uncomfortably under the hot lights of the cell he was in.

" _My name is Bucky_." His words were quiet, but firm. Mallory hid her smile, feeling her two sides at war with one another, glad as a friend that he was being so defiant but unhappy with his uncooperative performance as a doctor.

Steve took everyone's attention away from the screen, throwing the photograph on the table. "Why would the task force release this photo to begin with?"  
"Get the word out. Use as many eyes as we can." She shrugged, "It's a common technique with high profile targets."  
"Right. 'Cos it's a good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken and get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier."

"You're saying someone framed him to find him." Sharon sounded unconvinced. Mallory interjected her, still watching the screen, "Makes sense. I mean, otherwise, the time-line is completely wrong."  
"What do you mean?" Sharon asked her and Mallory turned, so she and the woman could make eye contact.

"Well… he's quiet for two years after the Triskelion incident. Then he bombs the UN for no reason, putting himself at risk for capture?"

Sam was playing devil's advocate, "They could say it was because of the Accords."

"The Accords don't affect him. In fact, if they're pursuing this course of him being evil then the Accords would probably work in his favour."

"How?"

"Him," Mallory said, nodding her head at Steve, "If they sent him to put down the Winter Soldier, they wouldn't send him because of a conflict of interest. So, that's one superhuman down. And the rest of the team would probably barter to get him captured instead of killed."

Sharon, more convinced, spoke next. "You're both saying someone framed him to find him?"

Mallory and Steve nodded, both once again uneasily united on a defend-James stand front. Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair, finally ceasing the drumming of his fingers.

"Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing."  
Mallory's face felt warm with shame as she felt the prickle of Steve's accusing eyes on her back. Steve spoke quietly, "We didn't bomb the UN. Turns a lot of heads."

Sharon was back to he unconvinced tone, "Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee who framed him would get him. It guarantees we would."

" _Tell me, Bucky, you've seen a great deal, haven't you?"_  
James shifted uncomfortably in his bindings, his face made of stone when replied. " _I don't wanna talk about it_."  
The room fell warmly silent. Mallory could hear everybody's brains straining to think, stretching as they tried to gather information of the case. They all seemed to come to the same conclusion as Sharon was looking horrified, Sam somewhat disturbed and Steve was glaring accusingly at the psychiatrist talking to Bucky.

Mallory spoke quietly, "He had callouses." Steve looked at her and Mallory elaborated. "On the inside of his palm. I thought I was being paranoid but… no psychiatrist I've ever met has hands like that."

" _You feel if you open your mouth the horrors might never stop coming._ " The psychiatrist was looking at his table. Everyone in the room was frozen to the spot, waiting for what he was about to say. " _Don't worry. We only have to talk about one_."

The room went dark.

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. I've started university and I'm doing a humanties subject which means essays-all-the-damn-time. But this was a fun chapter to write and the next one should be due soon. Soonish. Don't hold it against me if it's late again. I love you guys and as always, will twerk for reviews, favourites and followers. xx


	7. Solder, Soldier

James was already staring at the ceiling when the lights went out. For a moment, he was total darkness; the silence of the tomb, a throwback to the time he'd spent dancing in the amniotic confines of his mother's womb. For a brief flash, he saw his mother's face. Her dark hair, her bright eyes and that dark tone to her skin that marked her out as European. His father's paleness had taken most of that skin tone out of him but the eyes, oh, the eyes were the same. How he wished he could remember more.

He was jolted from the sudden trip down memory lane when the lights flared up again, the static whir of a backup generator, alarms and flashing lights. Something was seriously wrong and the psychiatrist across from him looked unconcerned, tilting his head slightly to the side to study him further.

"What the hell is this?" James asked, trying to sound unconcerned but a dark, sinking feeling was plunging his gut deeply. Fear. A bad taste was in his mouth and he knew somehow, that his hands would feel someone's throat beneath them before the day was through.

"Why don't we discuss your home?" For some reason, James thought of Mallory. "Not Romania or Department X or that doctor you were living with. Certainly, not Brooklyn. I mean your real home."

As he spoke, he pulled a notebook out of his bag. He took his glasses off and James finally registered the dark, predatory look in the psychiatrist's eyes, a look no caregiver was supposed to know. A man on a hunt was standing before him now, but the only weapon he had to take down his prey was a mere book. A leather skin journal. The flashing lights and muted setting didn't allow him a good look at the colour, but he saw the symbol on the cover. A star.

James knew that book as he knew the stories behind his scars, the vein pattern on the back of his hand or way Mallory looked when she was sleeping. He knew that book intimately, like one knows a lover but instead of it filling him joy, his lips parted in silent shock, his blood froze in his veins and the bad taste in his mouth was burning.

The man stood and with a flashlight began reading in pitch-perfect Russian. " _Longing, rusted-"_

James hit his head hard against the backdrop of his confines, "No. Stop."

" _Seventeen, daybreak_ -"

He clenched his fist. A panic attack was coming along, alongside the subterranean levels of his brain awakening and beginning to respond to those words he knew so well. "Stop."

" _Furnace. Nine_."

James screamed. Howled, more likely. The sound reverberated around the room. He was pulling tightly against his iron-clad shackles and he knew if his arm were still flesh, it would be bleeding.

" _Benign_ -"

James yanked. The confines broke. The man reading those words from hell stuttered, watching, interest in his reaction but in a way that denied James the littlest shards of humanity he'd finally managed to recover; he was watching him in way a child watches animals at the zoo, understanding nothing of the world and its cruelty.

The man was walking near the cell. _I'm going to kill this man._ He hoped his fingers would feel the last pulses of his heartbeat. He used his metal arm to rip the confines off his other hand then stood, shaking with rage and fear. The caged beast was free and James drove his fist through the glass, howling as he tried to shatter it.

" _Homecoming_."  
His brain was starting to blank. _No, no, no, please not again please don't let it happen again_. It had been so long since he'd been under control and he couldn't do it. Not again. There were too many people in this building he cared about who would wipe out of his mind and who this man would command him to hurt. Steve. Mallory. God, he'd told her to go home, why was she so stubborn?

"One."

One word. One more word and James was going to be drowning again. Drowning under servitude. Would he lose his memories this time? He had worked so hard to make something that was his own. He had revelled in remembering things. He wanted to recall the mundane and the extraordinary and the hurt just so he could feel and think for himself again. He missed the familiar weight of the picture in his pocket.

" _Freight car_."

His last real thought was _no._ The glass finally broke and the force of his frantic fists blew the door off its handles. But it was too late.

The Winter Soldier straightened up. His surroundings were unfamiliar. He was breathless, wearing clothes he didn't remember putting on. The man in front of him had said the words so the Soldier was his.

" _Ready to comply."_

"Mission report." The man spoke in English now. "December 16th 1991."

The Winter Soldier complied.

Mallory was breathless but she kept running, following the slipstream of Sam and Steve as they raced to the basement level. How could she be so stupid? It had been mere minutes since the lights had gone out but that was more than enough time for the faux psychiatrist to do and say what he had planned for. Her stomach quivered anxiously at the thought of James. She wondered what kind of state he was in, if any. There was a chance he was dead and she prayed to every god that it wasn't true.

Steve came to a stop and his face went pale. The basement level made sure that the alarms reached but they sounded distant, as Mallory slowed down when she reached Steve to see what he was looking at. The body of a man was slumped on the floor. Mallory bent down and reached two fingers by his throat.

"Well?" Steve whispered.

"Alive." The sweat on her brow faded somewhat and she stood. "Just about."

But Steve was distracted. He left them both and continued walking through the basement. As he walked, his eyes became alive with shock, roaming the floors of the basement to check just how many bodies. Who had done this? The psychiatrist surely couldn't take all these men out himself-

Unless… unless…. She couldn't bear thinking about it but in her mind's eye she saw the Soldier on their foray into the field, first in the prison and secondly on the highway. _That's impossible. Nothing but brain washing tech could reverse him back._

"Help me." A voice croaked in the doorway. Steve stood and walked over, compassion guiding him but his expression changed when he saw who it was. Mallory's did as well, as the psychiatrist was slumped to the floor pretending to be injured.

"Get up." Steve sounded just as pissed off as Mallory was. When the man didn't comply in the second Steve gave him, Steve picked him up and slammed him against the wall. Despite her anger, Mallory winced as the cracking sound echoed through the empty room. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"To see an empire fall." The man responded, the faux injury in his voice fading to a roughness.

Mallory was just behind Sam when a shape attacked him. Sam ducked and the man's fist contacted the wall, echoing a loud metallic crunch. No… Mallory was teary when she got a proper look at him. _Oh, Bucky, no._ Somehow, the psychiatrist had switched the Soldier back on.

It was over before it began for Sam, as James threw him roughly into the cell he had inexplicably escaped from. Mallory gasped and moved forward, but quickly leapt backwards when Steve lunged. The pair began to fight, moving backwards towards the place in which they'd came. She needed to tend to Sam but she couldn't help but follow at a distance. Usually, she'd place her money on the Captain to win in a fight but the two were so equally matched that it was impossible to tell. Mallory edged behind them and realized with a sinking feeling James was winning.

He threw Steve into the elevator shaft. Mallory heard the crash of metal and thud of a body hitting the floor. Mallory gasped again and James turned around slowly, breathless, his eyes returned with that dead stare.

He reminded her of a great white shark. His eyes were usually warm when looking at her but here they were black pits, zeroing in on her like the scope on a sniper rifle.

She was his target now. Mallory opened her mouth to speak but James took a rough step forward.

Mallory bottled it and fled on her heel.

Mallory had never run so fast in her entire life. Even then it wasn't enough. James was hot on her trail, seemingly putting in no effort to keep a pace with her. Sweat was soon pouring, down her front, down her back, down her face and her legs were aching, with the speed and force she was pushing them to propel her forward. The stairs were the real killer; Mallory had walked up some flights on the Eiffel tower but here, her calves were shaking as she tried to progress to the top level, to find someone, anyone who could help.

James grabbed her leg. Mallory had almost reached the top but she went down like a sack of stones, her shin cracking hard on the edge of the step. Cursing, she scrabbled on the concrete floor to move forward but James was too strong, that iron grip grabbing her left leg tighter and dragging her toward him.

"James, please!"

She turned, her tears staring to fall. His body was crushing her as he used his weight to keep her down. She kicked and screamed. Hands left her legs to wrap around her wrists tightly, pinning her down to stop her from hitting him. What was he going to do?

"James! It's Mallory! Stop!"  
Useless. He didn't know who Mallory was. Heck, he didn't even know who James was. Mallory was sobbing now but her sweat was losing up the grip on his metal arm, so she used it as a lubricant to slide it free. James was shocked and immediately began trying to get her back. Mallory punched him in the throat and the Soldier choked, spluttering. As he coughed, Mallory kicked him free and started running through the door.

The room was open air, bright, sunlight filtering in through the beams. People were sprinting all directions, panicking like headless chickens. Mallory fitted in well and she started to sprint again but James had recovered too quickly, and had wrapped his fist around her hair. Mallory screamed as he dragged her towards him, back through the threshold into the dark hallway again. Pain blossomed in her spine as he slammed her against a concrete wall.

He spat something in Russian. His metal fist closed around her throat, choking her. Applying a few more inches of pressure would break it. She kicked and punched but he just tightened his grip. She could barely speak. His gaze wasn't cold; it was hot, hot with fury, hot with a pure anger that Mallory had never experienced before. He hated her. He wanted to kill her. Mallory was going to die.

She heard a blaster and the grip on her throat was gone. James dropped her carelessly and turned to see what was happening; Mallory saw through the film of tears and through hacking coughs, Tony Stark dressed in only a suit heading towards him.

"Get out of here." Tony said, not quite looking at her. Mallory didn't need to be told twice, scrambling upwards. She was instantly forgotten by the Soldier, the rifle scope of his eyes choosing Tony.

She hated that her mind called him the Soldier again. She headed through into the open-air room and finally caught her breath.

She whirled again when she heard a sonic blast. Tony had calibrated his metal-glove to fire one off and it affected James, causing him to stop fighting and to sway. Would it be enough to break him out of the groove? Mallory had read up on all of the Winter Soldier project brain-washing tech and had never heard of him being reset without the spider-like apparatus Pierce used, that washed his brain.

Tony sent off a flash and raced towards the man. The Soldier crouched but was bent back up in time to start fighting. Mallory's breath gasped roughly in her throat when he unquestioningly tried to shoot Tony in the heart. Her mind transported her briefly to the forest with Kohl, and how he'd shot him without thought. James was gone.

Sharon diverted the Soldier's attention and behind her Natasha was preparing to run up. She spotted Mallory ducking behind a table and shot her a look of pure confusion.

"Get out of here, Mal!" Nat's voice was rough, her eyes fixed on Mallory before she reached the Soldier.

She couldn't get out of here. She couldn't move. She could only watch as the Soldier continued to decimate her friends, injure her enemies and disappear up the stairs to carry out whatever order the psychiatrist had given him.

He didn't even turn his head as he left.

Steve was running through the atrium when he saw the destruction; the broken tables, splattered drinks and food, the shattered glass. Bodies littered the floor and he hoped they were alive, even though he didn't have time to stop and check.

Until his eyes caught a woman, crouched by a table. Her eyes were red with tears and she was alive, breathing, thankfully since he knew if she was dead James would never forgive himself. Steve slowed to a jog.

"Mallory?"  
The woman looked up; shell-shocked, he recognized the stare as a thousand-yard the soldiers would wear after a hard battle. There was a ring of red around her neck, the splodges bearing the mark of fingertips. For a moment, she was a thousand years old and weary. Steve was fearful of approaching, anticipating a violent reaction. Then she blinked and became her age again, standing up.

"He went that way." Her voice was unnaturally calm. He guessed it came with being a doctor.

"Come on then."

Side by side they raced up the stairs. Mallory's eyes were blank. A question occurred to Steve just as they reached the level before the stairs.

"Where's Sam?"

She shrugged, "Haven't seen him. He's good. He's fine."

The comforting words were said casually but Steve felt his stomach thicken anxiously. He hoped Mallory was right. They reached the top step and heard beyond the iron door that someone was activating a helicopter, the blades starting to whir.

Steve ripped open the door handle and the blinding sunlight temporarily plunged the world into white. He heard Mallory gasp beside him and his eyes adjusted, seeing Bucky sitting in the pilot seat starting to take off. Steve didn't even think; didn't even guess if he could even do it, just raced up the steps and jumped as high as his abilities would allow. Luckily, the strength the doctor had given him with the serum allowed him to jump high enough to tip the nose of the helicopter down.

Bucky glared at him. He started inching left off the helipad and Steve strained, trying to drag the helicopter down, flexing his biceps and groaning. His shoes scuffed against the concrete floor as he reached closer and closer to the edge. Bucky was edging the speed up and up and Steve was really straining now, the strands of his t-shirt starting to buckle slightly under the hard strain, a headache beginning to pound as he ached to keep the helicopter anchored to the ground.

Soon, he was the only link keeping the helicopter on the ground.

Bucky smirked at him. Then, as the alarms began to whir, he nosed the joystick into the helipad. Steve let go and dived, his head thumping against the concrete ground. As he rolled, he caught sight of the doorway he'd entered and saw that Mallory was gone; where had she gone?

The blades almost decapitated him but the helicopter soon came to a stop. Steve caught his breath then jumped, as Bucky drove his fist through the glass window and caught his throat.

The hate in Bucky's eyes was breath-taking. He had assumed he would've been used to being stared like that now, what with his war experience and the aliens and the robots but it was uniquely unsettling, seeing the expression worn by the Chitauri being worn by a man who had comforted him in his darkest moments.

The helicopter was starting to sink over the edge. Bucky didn't care but James did, desperately trying to yank himself out of the iron grip as he choked. It was no use. The helicopter crashed to the ground and splashed in the water. He took a deep breath as he went under.

Steve resurfaced, choking, his fallen friend in his hands as he bobbed in the water around the debris of the helicopter, knowing deep in his heart that this was something neither of them would ever get back too.

A/N: I suck so hard at action scenes but this is a multi-perspective chapter. Yay! Anyway, as usual, love to you all (seriously i never say this enough but _oh my god people actually read this and like it!_ ) like, review, favourite, PM me, ask me questions


	8. Benign

Steve towelled his wet hair, gooseflesh raising on his arms as a cold draught rushed through the abandoned warehouse they were hiding out in.

It had been two hours since the helicopter incident. It was playing everywhere all over the news, reports of injured workers, an escaped Winter Soldier and a fugitive Captain America and Falcon harbouring him somewhere in the city.

His eyes found Mallory, who had dragged a chair up to the window and was sitting near it. Her hands were shaking, one palm raised to the glass as she watched the window for any sign of trouble.

If it wasn't for the disgraced doctor, he would've never had made it out of the building alive. Mallory had had the foresight to go back downstairs, find Sam and they had both stolen a car together, driving to the sight of the crash to pick them both up. She had spoken briefly, checking both Steve and Bucky for any sign of injuries but once satisfied, she had lapsed into a silence that made Steve feel uneasy.

"They won't find us here. Sam's watching the perimeter. We're safe."

Mallory looked over to him. It was the first word they'd exchanged in a while and her eyes were blank.

She stood shakily from the chair and crossed the room, reaching Steve in a few paces. There was bruising around her neck in the shape of fingerprints. Surprisingly, she threw her arms around him. Her body was trembling. Steve felt, unwillingly, sympathy guiding his hands around her waist and patting her back. He swallowed nervously. "Mal?"

It was weird saying her nickname. He didn't feel like he'd earned it yet.

"I froze up. He almost went missing again."

Steve would usually agree with her but in truth, he found his mind swaying towards comfort. He kept his voice as gentle as possible.

"You're not a solider. You can't be so hard on yourself all the time."

"He's gone… I don't know what happened." She choked slightly, "I don't…"

"Ssh. It's okay. It's not your fault."

"But it is." She stepped back, eyes wild and earnest. "I'm his doctor. I'm supposed to look after him."

Steve didn't understand. He had been looked after well enough when he had been living with Mallory. Hell, it had seemed like the prime time of his life! What was she saying?

"But you have."

"I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to freeze up when he gets hurt."

Steve narrowed his eyes at her, "You managed well when you checked him in the car."

She was shaking her head at him. "I froze up. I'm supposed to protect him. But I reacted wrong. I didn't act like his doctor, I acted… wrong."  
"There's no wrong reaction when it's someone you care about." Then he caught on, tilting his head at her. "Are you trying to say something else, Mallory?"

She fell silent. _So, she didn't know her own feelings._ He almost rolled his eyes at her.

"Mallory. Whatever your feeling right now… it's best if you just put it aside. We don't need to think about other entanglements right now. He needs stability when he wakes up because we don't know what kind of man he's going to be."

It was her turn to narrow her eyes, "What are you trying to say?"

It was hopeless. Like trying to convince a fish of quantum physics. _She'll realize one day._ Hopefully before it was too late. Steve shook his head, folded his arms and took a breath.

"You read Zola's notes."

"Yes."

"Any idea how he'll be when he wakes up?"  
Mallory shrugged. "I'm going off Natasha's description of Clint, when he was under the control of Loki's staff. She said 'cognitive recalibration' switched Clint back. I'm hoping he smacked his head hard enough."

"But that was Loki's staff. Bucky wasn't brain-washed like that."

"It's an imperfect hypothesis, I know. But right now, it's all we have." Her eyes then brightened, "Trigger words brought him back online before, however. We could always use that if he wakes up and still wants to kill us."  
"I can't believe I proved Zola's theory." Steve said, "Makes me feel a little sick that I proved that crazy man right."

Mallory had explained about Zola's _memory fragmentation hypothesis_ when they'd been in the bunker with Nick and Maria. It explained how Steve had brought back Bucky enough to save him when they'd gone down with the Helicarriers, using a phrase triggering back to his mother's funeral.

Mallory smiled, looking nervous. "Actually, you didn't. I did it first."

"What?"  
"I brought him back online after you figured out who he was. It's actually why I came to you and Nat in the first place. Remember, how Nat called me?" Steve nodded and Mallory's smile widened, "Well, I'd proved Zola right. He remembered me. It gave me the kick up the ass to stand up to my dad."

"What did you say to him? Nat said you worked with the Soldier for six months."

"I called someone a monster. Bucky overheard and it triggered a memory."

Steve tilted his head and Mallory sighed, explaining, "We were sent on a mission together. It's declassified; go look it up once all this is over. Bucky was made to do something he didn't want to do. I tried to convince him not to do it but he did it anyway. I called him a monster."

Steve's jaw briefly dropped then he closed it. Had Bucky been that fond of her even as a cold assassin? Mallory noted the shocked look and smiled.

"I didn't realize it had stuck with him. He overheard it after a memory wipe and-" She clicked, "-boom, he was back online. I left and they wiped him again."

Had she really had that strong of an impact even when he didn't know who he was? In Steve's eyes, it was just further proof of the pair's strange, borderline romantic bond. Mallory however was deep in thought.

"The thing I can't figure out is how that guy brought the Soldier back without the memory wipes or the machines."

Footsteps alerted the pair to Sam, who entered the room, looking between them. He spoke reservedly, speaking only two words.

"He's up."

Mallory's heart skipped a beat as James groaned. He turned his head this way and that, creaking the bones in his neck backwards, his eyes fixing on the machine that had clamped down his metal arm.

She hoped he was back. It was only when his eyes glanced over to the three that stood around him that she saw the warmth and confusion and she just knew it was him. Did he remember though? Or had all those memories just been lost?

"Steve."

So, he knew Steve. The tight band of anxiety around Mallory's heart soothed slightly. This was a good sign, as he struggled in his seat and tried to pull his arm from the apparatus.

"Which Bucky am I talking to?"

He answered almost without hesitation.

"Your mom's name was Sarah." He chuckled a little, "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes."

"And me?" Sam asked.

"You fly."

"Do you… know me?" Her voice quivered.

The band grew spikes and tightened so hard that Mallory forgot how to breathe. His gaze fixed on her and it was unreadable. Unreadable because he had no idea who she was? Mallory swallowed.

His eyes softened. "You owe me dinner. Greek, was it?"  
 _He remembered her._ The relief was physically healing, like she'd bottled emotional anti-biotics. Mallory laughed. "It was."

"Can't read that in a museum."

Sam looked between them, eyes wide. "Just like that, we're supposed to be cool?"  
"What did I do?" James said, shifting with agitation. He looked toward Mallory for answers and his eyes zeroed in on her throat. Mallory had forgotten all about the choking but as he stared, it came back and it felt she was choking again, the ghost of his iron grip hard on her. "Did I do that?"

Both Mallory and Steve spoke together.

"James-"

"Enough-"  
"Oh, god, I knew this would happen." He couldn't take his eyes off the bruises, speaking quickly. "Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words."

"What words?"

"Before HYDRA used the machines, they used to say the trigger words from that book." Mallory nodded, knowingly, "The machines would just replay the words in my brain."

"Who was he?"

"I don't know."

"People are dead. The bombing, the set-up, the doctor did all that just to get ten minutes with you. I need you to do better than I don't know."

"Steve, maybe we should give him a minute."

Sam raised his eyebrows, "He looks okay to me."

"He wanted to know about Siberia." James said suddenly. The distant knowledge pinged in Mallory's brain and she unfolded her arms.

"The base you were held at before Department X?"  
James nodded. Steve looked between them.

Mallory elaborated. "It was in his work history. He was kept in cryo in a Siberian HYDRA base till the 9/11 bombings when Pierce ordered him moved to America, occupying the base I worked in. Pierce must've thought having a HYDRA asset on American soil would safe-guard us against future terrorist attacks."

It clearly didn't work out. Mallory felt fresh anger at the Nazi, truly thankful he was dead.

"He wanted to know where it was. Exactly where it was."

"Why would he need to know that?"

"Because I'm not the only Winter Soldier."

Immediately, Steve and Sam turned to Mallory. Outraged, she spluttered, "I had… no idea. There's more of you?"

He nodded, "There's a lot more. I'm the best." He said it without pride.

"Who were they?"

"An elite death squad. Recruited for several different reasons. They prioritized mental instability and brute strength." He sighed, "Combined, they've got more kills then anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum."

Sam nodded, "They all turn out like you?"

"Worse."

"The doctor." Steve was resting against a wall, "Could he control them?"

James looked away. "Enough."

"He said he wanted to see an empire fall." Steve explained, "The fake psychiatrist. You think he wants to use these Winter Soldiers?"

"He could do it. They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night and you'd never see them coming."

Steve freed his metal arm. James rolled it back in his socket, testing it for any breakages. Sam cornered Steve and two lapsed into a quiet discussion. The conversation was over but the gash on James's head was concerning her. She ripped off the cuff to her sleeve and walked over to him, kneeling by his side. He watched her wearily, his gaze switching from her neck to her eyes.

She had dabbed away most of the blood when he spoke.

"Does it hurt?"

"That's funny. I was about to ask the same question."

The light humour failed as James reached out his other hand to tilt her chin up towards him, forcing her to meet his eyes. His gaze looked down at her throat again.

"Please, don't sugar coat it."

She sighed, unable to keep her breezy mood with him staring so intently. "They did. I took some aspirin. They're fine now."

"What else? Did I hurt you anywhere else?"

Mallory opened her mouth and closed it again.

"Please."

It seemed fruitless to lie to him. She was sure he'd see through any flimsy lie anyway. He knew her too well.

"My head. Cracked it against a concrete wall. My knee. My leg." He winced each time she spoke, "You, uh… you pulled me down a staircase. Pinned me to the floor. Choked me."

His expression contorted, becoming agonized. His fingers dropped from her chin and he looked away.

"I knew this would happen."

"It wasn't you. I'm fine."

She wasn't. Her knee throbbed and now that she was under the microscope her throat was tingling with an ache.

"You are not fine. What kind of person does that someone they care about?"

"It wasn't you."

"Just repeating something doesn't make it true."

"Well, how many times do I have to say it until it does become true?" She stood up, discarding the cuff that was no soaked with blood. "We don't have any disinfectant but I'm not worried about an infection. Just keep an eye on it."

She turned to go, to give him some room.

"Mal?"

He looked uncomfortable, unwilling to look in her eyes. Mallory knelt beside him again, feeling the cold concrete floor seeping into her knees and soothing the burning ache of the knee that had cracked against the staircase.

"What is it?"

"I haven't… I've been so caught up with everything… how is everyone? Your mom?"

"She's in rehab. Doing good."

"Rehab?"

Mallory swallowed, "She hit the bottle pretty hard after Dad and everything. Told her if she didn't go to rehab I'd never speak to her again."

"Smart." The bridge of his nose scrunched up, "How about… uh, what's his name… Lee?"  
Mallory laughed, "Liam."

"Liam. Yeah. That's it. You two still a thing?"  
She shook her head. "We are not."  
"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be. Kinda glad about it to be honest." Mallory sighed, "Rumlow's death just made me sort of… see the light. I don't know why I got back with him, to be honest. Guess I was just lonely."

"When did it happen?"

Mallory could feel the subterranean depths of her stomach quelling and moulding nervously. Could she really say it? _What the hell, he did have a picture of me that he wasn't embarrassed about._

"Just before I left for this trip. When I found out about the UN bombing. Right before I left actually." James hissed, sympathetically and Mallory nodded, smiling. "Just a jealous little man. Told him if he couldn't understand me and my relationships, then he could get fucked." Mallory chuckled again, "He uh, he seemed to think men and women couldn't be friends. Thought we'd had more than a friendship only he was way cruder."

His exact words had been 'have you two fucked?'. Mallory blushed at the memory, an odd mixture of pride and embarrassment forming in her head as to her stone-cold reaction.

James wasn't looking at her when he spoke again, "Can they?"

"Can they what?"  
"Men and women. Can they just be friends?"

Rendered speechless, Mallory just stared at him. It felt like all her braincells had fizzled into a pile of meaningless binary code. He didn't mean… was he insinuating… what did he mean?! _Oh god, why did men have to talk in riddles?_ Having an out of body experience, she saw herself swallow nervously, saw how she'd shuffled her position on the ground and pressed her thighs together and how her eyes widened. James was just looking at her, waiting for her to speak. Damn her useless degree, she should've taken psychology to try and understand his thought process but his eyes had swallowed her up with an unusual hot gaze and she was about to speak when Steve entered the room.

"Sam and I have been talking- am I interrupting anything?"  
Grateful, Mallory jumped up. "No, no. Not at all. Nope. What did you have in mind?"

Steve looked between the two, his mouth serious but his eyes twinkling and stayed silent until Sam interjected.

"We can't contact Tony. Or Nat. Or anyone on his side. But, I've got a few potentials in mind. We can get in touch, make a plan, get ourselves after the psychiatrist before he gets to the base."

"We need to talk to Sharon before anything." Steve finished, "She has our gear."  
"You two expecting a fight?"

Steve and Sam looked uneasy. "We're not sure. We'd rather be safe than sorry."  
"If there's going to be fight, I won't be much use but I don't want to leave all of you." Mallory sighed, aware once more of her crushing mediocrity in the presence of the Avengers and the Winter Soldier. "I don't want to be a burden. I'll go anywhere."  
James finally spoke, "You're not going anywhere. I'll keep you safe."

"Bucky, she's going to be a distraction."  
He sounded sad, "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to go either. But I'll do whatever's best for us all."

Sam touched Steve on the shoulder. "They won't _hurt_ her. Nat's still her friend and she's still technically a civilian."

"General Ross called me an ally."  
"They won't hurt her. Or us. At least not too much. They want to capture us. Are you gonna risk jail time for this, Mal?"

She nodded, "Of course."

Steve folded his arms, looking pleased. "Hopefully, we can get close enough to tell them what's going on. Mallory, if you come, you have to promise to stay out of the way and let us handle this."

Mallory was looking at James when she agreed. "I promise. What exactly was the plan?"  
Steve's voice sounded smug when he responded, "You'll see."

A/N: This chapter is pretty talky talky, I dunno if it's boring or not. I enjoyed writing it but... idk it left me feeling a bit cold.

Anyway! Again, love to you all (again i still cannot believe people actually read this my god you are all the best). Review, favourite, follow, thank you thank you so much! xxx


	9. The Gathering of the Storm

It was a balmy, quiet night and Wanda Maximoff was standing by the window where a huge fireball had caught her attention. It had sliced through the silence of the night and instantly, gliding through the air effortlessly, Vision was hovering by her side.

"What is it?" She asked, taking a glance to him. His face was highlighted in the fire, and there was a small crease between his eyes. Wanda automatically began pulling herself together, creating the quiet storm of power inside herself to be ejected from her palms at a moment's notice.

"Stay here please." He responded calmly, electing to ignore her answer and phasing through the wall. Wanda sighed. Usually, she'd say he was overacting but a large fireball at the Avengers' HQ was not a good sign in the current political climate.

A quiet noise behind her pushed her mind into the worst direction. Tactics 101. Distraction to divert guard forces to leave a gap in the proverbial fence open to steal inside. She formed an energy ball and illuminated the building with the red glow, using her powers to push a knife straight at the intruder behind her.

She heard the gasp and the squishing of leather. "Guess I should've knocked."

A worried Clint Barton pushed the knife from his forehead. Wanda instantly relaxed and the knife dropped with a clatter.

"Oh, my god, what are you doing here?"

"Disappointing my kids. We were supposed to go water-skiing."

She watched as he aimed two arrows and fired so they were facing each other. Wanda raised an eyebrow quizzically but did not question him. "So why are you disappointing them?"

"Cap needs our help. Come on."

He held out his hand and Wanda took it. Her stomach rumbled excitedly with the thought of finally leaving her shiny, well-stocked prison.

"Clint!" Vision had phased back through the wall, "You should not be here."

"Really? I retire for what, five minutes and it all goes to shit?" Clint laughed but the sound was hard, "Maybe you should all do some kind of team-bonding exercises. I hear go-karting pretty popular."

"Please consider the consequence of your actions."

Clint paused for a moment, as if waiting for the gliding Vision to reach a certain point. "Okay they're considered."

The arrows activated an electric field, that punched the wind and a groan from him. Vision was incapacitated and Clint took the opportunity to take Wanda's hand again.

"Okay, we gotta go."

He let go of her hand to get the door but Wanda stopped, hearing the groans of Vision in the background and feeling the guilt building in her stomach.

"It's this way."

"I've caused enough many problems."

Clint rolled his eyes and jogged over to her, "Gotta help me, Wanda. You wanna mope, you can go to high school. Wanna make amends you gotta get off your ass."

Wanda folded her arms and was about to respond when she heard Vision break free of his chains.

"Shit!"

Clint pushed her away and aimed an arrow at Vision. The pair broke down into a fight but it was clear who was the most powerful. Vision quickly had Clint in a headlock, and Clint was straining with the force of Vision's grip. Wanda quickly had conjured a ball of energy and was waiting for the opportunity to strike.

"Clint, you cannot overpower me."  
"I know." Clint smiled at Wanda, "But she can."

Wanda walked around so her back was to the door, "Vision, that's enough. Let him go. I'm leaving."

"I can't let you do that."

"You can't let me do anything." She corrected, "Not now."

Her gift was multi-faceted but this aspect of her gift was the worst. She crept the red tendrils of her ability into Vision's brain and forced him to let go of Clint. She could feel Vision probing her ability, attempting to find weakness but he couldn't fight her off.

"I'm sorry."

"If you do this-" His voice was strained with the weight of her gift, "They will never stop being afraid of you."  
"I can't control their fear. Only my own."

He was on his knees but it wasn't enough. Wanda gathered her strength and sent him crashing through the floor, to make sure he stayed down. _I hope he'll forgive me,_ she thought as she heard the thump of his body down below.

Clint came to stand beside her. His arm came around to touch hers and Wanda looked at him, feeling her eyes stinging with tears.

"Come on. We got one more stop."

Natasha Romanoff stood in the parking lot, her back as straight as she could manage as one of King T'Challa's intimidating aides strode up to her.

"Move." She said, in a deep voice, "Or you will be moved."

Natasha found a small smile making its way to her face. King T'Challa was beside her, and she saw a smile making its way onto his face.

"As entertaining as that would be…" He said and the inclined his head to the space behind the woman. The woman gave Nat a deep, disapproving look but followed the orders of her king to step back.

"You really think you can find them?"

The King opened the door to his car, "My resources are considerable."

Nat hid a snort. Considerable was an understatement. The man was literal royalty and he was trying to impress her.

"It took the world seventy years to find Barnes the first time. I think you could do that in half the time."

The king smiled at her and went to slide into the car. Natasha found herself stepping forward to place a warning hand on his arm; the woman who had blocked her path took a step forward but the King made eye contact with her, silently warning her away.

"Your highness, if I may make a request of you?"  
A thick eyebrow arched at her, confused, but nodding, "If it is reasonable."

"The woman who is with them… the doctor… Mallory Smith?"

"I know of her."

"I'd like to request a pardon for her."  
"A pardon." He repeated. His tone was without question, his eyes hardening somewhat, "Miss Romanoff-"  
"I understand it might present some complications with your alliance with the UN-"

"Pardoning an ex-HYDRA operative is a little above a complication Miss Romanoff."  
"She was not-"

"Yes, I've read the report. Her reasoning is weak enough to make me question its authenticity."

Natasha found the Widow in her biting back with, "You really think a woman with smart enough to gain herself a medical degree would think up 'I didn't know it was HYDRA' as the best lie to defend herself?" Natasha caught the look from the king and smoothed down her top, adding, "Your highness."

"I'd think a woman that smart would not entangle herself with the Winter Soldier."

Natasha looked away, defeated. It was true. Sure, the Winter Soldier's past as an operative for HYDRA was liable to be excused. But the UN bombing… that was inexcusable. It was barbaric. It was the behaviour of terrorists to bomb buildings that housed peace talks, not the behaviour of a so-called brainwashed assassin. He had been somewhat defendable before this.

The king surprisingly leant forwards and placed his arm atop Natasha's shoulder lightly.

"This woman is your friend. I understand that. I understand why you would want her to receive a lenience. What I do not understand is why you aren't asking the same of your Avengers."

Natasha bit her lip, trying to avoid the laser focus of the king's stare. "They're all adults. I get that. It's just… Mallory isn't an Avenger. They all understand the consequences but this isn't Mal's life. I don't want to see it ruined because she was in love."

The king dropped his hand, reeling from her, laughing, "In love? You mean to say your friend has fallen in love with her patient?"

Nat wasn't even sure Mallory knew. But Nat knew; Nat could smell it. That weakness that crippled the body and weakened the mind. She'd told someone long ago that love was for children yet here they were, two friends in love with men who were monsters.

"Tale as old as time, your highness. Why else would you be willing to go to jail for someone?" _Or worse,_ Natasha added darkly, thinking of a team catching them all and executing them on sight like the General had in mind.

"Perhaps your friend needs to source some men outside of the Avengers world."

"Like I say, it's not her life. I don't want this to ruin it."

"Yet you were willing to pass the Accords."

Natasha looked away. The look on Mallory's face had almost willed her to take it back but she had to stick to her guns. The Avengers were bigger than all of them and sometimes, people needed to answer for their crimes.

"We'd have found a place for her. Among us." Natasha balled her fists up briefly and sighed, "That was bigger than her. I hated agreeing with it but-"

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." He looked at her for a long time before sighing, "I will see what I can do. When the time comes. But I make no promises."

"Thank you, your highness."

"Any suggestions of where we should start?"

Natasha looked around. She had held the king up long enough from enacting his duties and inclined her head slightly in apology.

"It took the world seventy years to find Barnes the first time. I think you could do that in half the time."

"You know where they are."

"No." Natasha's smile was somewhat mischievous, "But, I think I know someone who does."

A/N: Short chapter this time but with my two favourite girls. I know it's short but I just wanted to get something out to you guys mainly to say happy holidays! I hope everyone had a great Christmas and a good new year J Next chapter should be a quick upload. Reviews have been lovely, keep them coming! They stroke my ego like no other xx


	10. Promises, Promises

The car Steve stole was comically small. Small even for Mallory, who wasn't all that tall or wide. But with the three Avengers; the two supersoldiers and the one military man who seemed to have emerged from the womb packing a six pack, the car was even more cramped. The roof seemed to have warped with the size of the occupants, pressing down on their heads. Sam was in the front seat, Steve driving, Mallory and James sitting next to each other in the back.

Their knees kept touching and no matter how often Mallory tried to ignore it, a jolt of electricity felt like it was fizzing the place he touched. She marked it down to the pain in her knee but privately, she admitted it was no such thing. The thoughts he'd spoken were weighing on her mind. _Can they? Just be friends?_ She stole a glance; he was distant, his eyes a thousand miles away looking thoughtfully worried. Likely, he had forgotten all about the strange conversation.

"Mallory?"

Sam's deep voice cut into the silence. Mallory sat forward. "Yeah?"  
"You got a phone on you?"

"Yep." She took it out and gave it to him, unquestioning of his motives. Sam took the case off and opened the back, grunting with some difficulty and took out the little chip in the back.

"Keep these two safe. I was gonna destroy it but I wouldn't think you'd like that all too much."

"I wouldn't mind. Just if you'd pay for a replacement." She put the two pieces back in her pocket.

"Do you think I make enough to pay for a replacement phone?"

"I don't know how much Avengers make. How much do you guys make?"

Steve and Sam exchanged a look, with Steve muttering, "Not a lot."

"Oh come on! You're _Avengers_! World's mightiest heroes and all that nonsense. You must earn some money."

"Stark pays for everything." Steve said then he muttered, "Paid. That'll be stopping now."

Mallory sat back in her seat and from Steve's dark tone became aware of the gap of the rift between each Avenger. Really, when she paused to think about it, the entire thing was utterly cataclysmic. Steve had sacrificed everything to find the truth. Did James know how much Steve had given up for it? Probably. It was probably what was turning his fist paper-white and caused him to question her loyalty when he saw her at the base.

Mallory found herself leaning forward again.

"Have you guys given much thought as to what will happen when this is all over?"

There was a long pause. Steve waited until he'd come off a roundabout and was stopped at some lights before answering.

"I don't know. This kind of thing, it's difficult to plan for."

"You must have some sort of idea."  
"Do you?" Sam countered and Mallory went red. "See? Difficult to plan for."

"I'm sure you'll find work somewhere." She sat back, and she saw James looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "You're Avengers."

"We're fugitives." Steve corrected. "What is your plan, anyway?"

"Go home? I don't know. I kicked Liam out-"  
"You threw him out?" Sam turned in his seat to beam at her, "Woohoo, go Mal! He was a total waste of space. Well, from what I heard from Nat."

Steve shot him a wry smile and warned, "Sam."

"Well, he was."

"I'm sure he had some redeeming qualities."

James spoke for the first time in a while, "Nope."

"You met him?"

"Once. Or twice. Don't really remember. Struck me as an asshole."

"James!" Mallory scolded then remembered what had happened, "Pretty much, yeah."

"What happened?"

Even Steve was drawn in to the drama that was Mallory's love life. Mallory shot a heated gaze to James – _what did you mean you confusing beautiful mess of a man!-_ and answered carefully.

"He tried to prevent me from joining you all. He insinuated some very hurtful things."

Her careful explanation wasn't cutting it, as Sam asked. "Like what?"

She saw James very visibly swallow and felt like screaming at the winged Avenger to shut the hell up. "He seemed to believe James and I had, y'know."  
"Fucked?" Sam finished for her, grinning in a way that mad Mallory's cheeks heat up. Steve took one hand off the wheel to hit him.

"Don't be crass."

"Pretty much. Fucked. He said we had fucked. And when I told him we hadn't, he didn't believe me so I kicked him out." Mallory shook her head and hit the back of Sam's headrest. "Why are we even talking about this? It's not _Housewives of Avengers County_."

"You kicked him out for that?"

"It was a mounting issue. I was just sick of him and that was the trigger- stop it!" She hit his seat again, "Focus on the important stuff."

Sam was laughing.

"Hey." He was still laughing as they pulled into the bottom of an overpass, where a sleek car was waiting to meet them. "I live a very simple life so when I see drama, I'm gonna hop on that train as fast as possible."

Steve put the handbrake on and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll speak to Sharon. You guys wait here."

James shifted uncomfortably beside Mallory.

He exited the car quickly, leaving the three in a relatively confused silence. Sharon exited her vehicle and the two met right under the underpass, Sharon digging her hands deep in her pockets but otherwise her body language was very open. She opened her trunk and Mallory saw within was the Avenger's gear and the Winter Soldiers armour.

"If anybody has touched that stuff…" Sam said.

"Wonder why he wanted to talk to her alone?" Mallory mused aloud. Sam made a vulgar gesture with a circle and a finger which caused Mallory to slap the headrest again.

"You keep leaning over to do that." James said, sounding amused. "This car is very small."

"Sorry."

There was a lot of smiling between Sharon and Steve. Mallory was left in the silence but could feel, alongside the heat of three bodies packed in the small vehicle, a mounting tension.

"Could you move your seat up?" James asked Sam, in the flattest voice he could muster. Sam's voice was almost violent when he responded.

"No."

Mallory rolled her eyes. _Men and their inane jealousy._ It was like Mallory getting jealous over Wanda and Natasha's friendship. There was enough platonic love to go around. James however, was unsatisfied with the response and moved quickly, shaking the chair with the weight of his body and knocking his and Mallory's knees together. The jolt sparked between them and Mallory almost groaned, going crazy with the lack of confirmation over his words – _what did you mean about can they? Can men and women what?_

"James!"

He was so close to her now, radiating warmth and James just shrugged apologetically. Did she even affect him, even in the slightest? He shifted again and opened his arm out to come around the back of her headrest to open some more room. He seemed satisfied and privately, so was Mallory to be squashed between a door and the Winter Soldier.

Steve and Sharon were still talking, still smiling at each other. Everybody became absorbed watching the drama that Mallory, very experimentally, rested her head onto James's shoulder. He turned slightly but said nothing to indicate he was uncomfortable with the motion.

Steve suddenly threw his arms around Sharon and they held on tight for a hug. Sam whistled lowly but nobody seemed to expect the chaste kiss Sharon gave him in return. Just a peck, on the mouth, to show thanks or appreciation or a promise of something more. Despite the quasi-incestuous circumstances – come on, her great-aunt had been buried a few days ago, and had been in love with Steve as well - Mallory couldn't help but feel a smile warm to her lips. Love was in the air and when they'd traded gear, she saw Steve shaking his head at the occupants in the car for waggling their eyebrows and grinning at him.

Wanting to dodge the mocking, Steve lifted the gear into the boot of the car and poked his head through the open window of James's side of the car. "You two look cosy."

Mallory's response was defensive, so naturally it was vulgar. "Fuck off."

James laughed.

* * *

"Last stop."

Mallory shifted to look out of the window and crinkled her nose. "An airport?"

"A parking lot at an airport." Sam corrected, "Clandestine meeting place."

 _Clandestine my ass_. Even as they pulled up to a stop, Mallory could see a few cars passing to look for spaces. Surely one of the civilians was going to see that a few fugitive Avengers were gathered here and oh, she didn't know, record them? Tweet the photo with a geo-tagged location that lead them right to where they were? They had something to learn about being discreet. At least Department X had had the sense to hide their activities in a bunker in the middle of nowhere. Listen to her, trying to out spy the Avengers. She rolled her eyes at her thoughts and hid a chuckle with her hand.

The car pulled into a stop a few spaces next to a white van, and Mallory was squinting at the driver's seat to see if anybody was inside. Her leg was trembling so Mallory was bouncing it to make the movement look natural instead of anxious.

"You're nervous." A quiet voice said beside her. Mallory turned her head and saw James looking at her, a soft expression on his face.

It was silly to try and hide it. He read her like a book. "Yep."  
"So am I."

Mallory heard the creak of the handbrake and one of the doors to the van opening. "Why?"

"I've never met these people before. Yet they're willing to break their alliances apart for me."  
Mallory rolled her eyes, "Don't start that shit again."

"Mal-"

"When will you get it through your head that you're worth it?"

She shook her head at him and exited the vehicle. Steve was already shaking hands with Clint. Wanda followed, the girl's long hair blowing in the slight breeze as she offered Mallory a familial smile. It struck Mallory as recruiting Wanda as smart, since she was the most powerful of all the Avengers. But Clint? Sure, he was a trained gymnast and archer but what was a bow and arrow against laser cannons?  
"How about our other recruit?" Steve asked, gesturing to the van. Clint turned around and pulled open the door with the grunt. There was a man asleep inside but the moment the door banged against the latch, he jerked awake.

Mallory stood beside James and leant in to whisper, "Who's that?"  
"No idea."

The man jumped out of the van, "What time zone is this?" He clocked Steve and his disgruntled expression wiped from his face, "Oh, my god. Captain America."

The man was laughing, shaking his hand. Steve looked amused and shook the hand back. It struck Mallory where she'd seen him before.

"Oh yeah. Scott Lang. Sam was telling me he has this suit that can shrink to the size of an ant."

"Really." James replied, sounding unimpressed but a moment later he touched the top of the car and sighed. "I think I preferred it when I was just Nazis and men with red faces."

Mallory gave a laugh and tuned back into the conversation.

"-what happened last time-"

Sam nodded, "It was a great audition. But it'll never happen again."

"They tell you what we up against?"

"Something about some psycho assassins." Scott shrugged, the details expendable to him. Mallory took a step forward, noticing how James shifted uncomfortably.

"We're looking for a base." Mallory cut in and Scott clocked her for the first time, "And a man."

Scott was smiling at her, "You look… normal."  
"I'm a doctor."

"Then how-"  
"She was my doctor." James cut in. Scott _aahed_ in understanding then clicked at her, smiling again. Steve took over.

"We're outside the law, Mr Lang. So if you come with us, you're a wanted man."

"Yeah, well, what else is new?" He dug his hands into his pockets, "I've spent half my life in and out of jail. At least this time it'll be a for a reason other than money."

James walked around the car to command the conversation, "We should get moving."

"Got a chopper lined up-" Clint began but a loud blare of an alarm caught everybody by surprise. The noise was followed by a voice speaking in a rapid fire foreign language, announcing something to the team. Mallory automatically looked at James for a translation who sucked his lower lip between his teeth and sighed. Not good news then.

"They're evacuating the airport."

"Stark?"  
"Who else?" Mallory said then folded her arms.

"Suit up. It's time."

Clint nodded and walked around the back of his van, opening the back to retrieve Wanda, his and Scott's gear. Steve did the same and Mallory was left alone in the parking lot, facing away from everyone to give them privacy.

"Uh, doctor lady?" She turned and saw Scott gesturing at her, half-dressed, "Could you get the clasp around the back? I can usually do it myself but my shoulders a bit funny today."

"Uh, sure. It's Mallory by the way."

"Oh. Well, hi Mallory. I'm Scott."  
Mallory walked to where he was standing and Scott turned around. He gestured to the area vaguely with his hand but Mallory had already worked it out. The clasp was high up on his neck and Mallory fastened. The suit was odd, a black and red leather jumpsuit, resembling a utility jumpsuit instead of a superhero costume. The helmet he held in his hands was somewhat bug-like in appearance. She still thought Ant-Man was a stupid name.

"So, alongside being a doctor, do you do anything?"

"Do anything?"

She finished the clasp and Scott turned back around, smiling at her.  
"Superheroey. Like, oh, I don't know… turn into a big slug or telepathy or anything?"

"Nope. Just a plain old doctor." She frowned, "Turn into a slug?"

"I don't know."  
"How would that even be handy?"

"I don't know, it just popped into my head."

Mallory laughed.

"Mal." A soft voice called her back over to the car and she excused herself. James was half-dressed in his Winter Soldier gear, and he was holding a rifle in one hand and a handgun in the other. When she reached him, he put the rifle back onto the soft pad of the trunk and gave her the handgun.

"9mm. Lightweight." He lifted a mass of black leather that was the holster and gave it to her, "Eight rounds per magazines. There's three magazines there. Do you remember how to shoot?"

She nodded. He gestured for her to move her arms and he attached the holster to her, sliding the gun inside the holster and moving her jacket so it was hidden. She automatically smoothed her fingers over the grip, the light weight of the weapon alien against her hip.

"It's loaded." He warned and she dropped her hand. "I hope you don't have to use it."

"Then why are you giving it to me?"  
"You will be nowhere near this. I will be keeping one eye on everyone else-" He dropped the magazines in her pocket as he spoke, "-and one eye on you. If anything happens to you, which it won't, I will be right there by your side. But in the slim chance I can't get to you, use it. Don't hesitate."

"James-"  
"Promise me you won't hesitate."

"I can't promise that." She said quietly.

He sighed, his fists balling up in frustration but he didn't press the issue, seeming to understand and even appreciate her honesty. Surely it would've been worse if she'd promise to use it then wouldn't when the time came? I'd rather be an honest coward than a dead one, she thought bitterly.

His next words sent a bullet wound into her gut.

"If I'm shot or hurt or unconscious or even if I'm dead, don't come to me."  
She frowned, almost winded. "What?"

"I mean it. If there's the slightest chance I'm hurt, you stay with Steve and you leave me to them. And if Steve gets hurt, you get down on the ground and you stay still."  
"How can you ask me to do that?"

"Very easily." He gripped her shoulders, looking at her seriously, "I mean it. Don't come near me."

"I can't promise that either."

He groaned, picking up his rifle and strapping his various weapons to his side. "Why can't you just do what you're told?"

"I will if you tell me something worthwhile."

"Mal-"  
"No. I will stay on the side-lines because believe me, I am a giant coward. But there is no way you're keeping me from you if you're hurt."

"But what if you get shot because of me?"

"Then I get shot."  
"You're being short-sighted!"  
"And you're being an idiot! Do you really think Tony Stark is going to shoot me? A civilian? Do you really think he's going to shoot any of you?"

"Hey!" Steve cut in with a furious expression, "Can you not argue seconds before we get into a fight? We're all trying to prepare here."

James looked away. The argument derailed into silence and Mallory fought with great difficulty not to hit him square in his stupid, beautiful face. _Breathe, just breathe._ She counted to ten and started again.

"You're preparing for a hypothetical that has almost no chance of occurring." She hated how flat her delivery was and struggled to stay neutral, her tone low to prevent Steve from getting involved again. "I will be fine. You will be fine. We will all be fine."

"But what if you're not? I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

So, this is where it came from. A raw, anxious expression twisted his face and Mallory sighed, thankful she was finally understanding the root of his issues. All his issues were traced back to his lack of self-worth. He didn't understand why anybody would. Mallory took a glance behind her and saw everybody else was finishing up dressing, getting ready to arm themselves and even trading light jokes to try and brighten the mood.

Mallory took James's hand and took him behind the van where nobody was, under the guise of straightening up his uniform. She did just that, affixing the final clasps on his jacket and smoothing down his jacket.

"Again… when are you going to get it through your thick skull that you're worth it?"

"Never."

At least he was smiling at her now, instead of those dreaded cool eyes. "I'll get it tattooed on my forehead, then. Maybe then every time you stare at me, you'll get a reminder."

"I'll be reminded a lot then."

There it was again. That low voice, that unguarded look, just out of focus. She was frightened to meet his eyes but when she did, her brain did that scramble thing again where she couldn't quite comprehend his meaning. Her hands, perhaps now she was aware of each tiny sensation in her body, roamed too far, too slow up his torso, the gesture a little too erotic. She fought herself and moved them back up to neutral territory but he caught them, trapping her hands under his as they reached his chest.

He held them for a moment. He had big hands and they consumed her own with a gentle grip.

"If you can't promise me you'll use the gun or come to me if I'm down, will you promise me one thing?" She managed a dumb nod, "Promise me you'll be careful."

Somehow, she found her words, "Only if you'll do the same."

Two loud thuds rapped on the side of the van. Everyone was ready. It was time.

A/N: I'm back again with a brand new longer chapter. I was planning to sit on this one for a while just to space out release times but what the hell, you guys deserve a longer chapter after last a warning, probaly going to be a while till the next chapter as I have some exams and a few assignments to finish and I'd quite like to get them done but once that's over, I'll be back to my usual work.  
As per usual, I love you all for reviewing, favouriting and following this work of mine (special shout out defiantlywicked, Raheem, vain-gl0ry and Fat Old Sun for being regulars; love you guys!) xx


	11. Tales of Ultraviolence

11\. Tales of Ultraviolence

 _The Winter Soldier was in a Russian prison and his eyes were sore._

 _An aching, unrelenting pain was stabbing the back of his head. His eyeballs felt heavy, the pain only dulling when he closed them. The mattress was scratchy. No blanket provided so the chill crept in. The room was dark, washed with a soft grey light filtering in from the barred windows. The moon was round and full, as pregnant as the woman in the cell next to them. He squeezed his eyes shut and a low, guttural growl, the only sound he could make anymore, built deep within his throat._

 _The noise alerted the body beside him. A soft body, warm and inviting, an open fire compared to the dungeon of the cell. Her eyelashes fluttered as she dreamt of warm lands and faraway places. He analysed her out of force of habit; he could choke the life out of her before she made a sound. Wrap his hands around that lily-white tunnel of a throat and choke her out. Her eyes, the colour of chocolate, would flutter open with surprise and she'd gasp as he straddled her and clutch at him, maybe scrape her fingernails down his back as if experiencing wave after wave of an-_

 _No. He fought against the primal urge building low in his stomach. He wasn't supposed to be behave like this. Offering her a place in his bed had been stupidity unlike him._

 _Countless of women had attempted to talk their way out of his swift hand with this exact tactic; a come-hither smile, white teeth flashing and red hair bouncing as they tried to show him the way to their bedroom and it had worked as well as introducing the concept of music to a fish. He'd fix them a cold stare and deliver that justice all the same but with an internal smile knowing how silly they had looked when they'd propositioned them. And then he had lost all ounce of his composure when he had seen a doctor shivering on the floor? Stupid soldier._

 _She wasn't even that attractive. He rolled on his back like a petulant child and squeezed his eyes shut to dull the pain. Her eyes were nice, her height was non-threatening and she smiled often and she put him at ease with her genuine care. Who bought food for him? What had she called it? Pizza. It had been greasy. And she'd rambled. What about? He struggled to remember but it came to him. She was telling him about her name. She was named after a hotel in England, where her parents had conceived her._

 _The body dreamt on silently, unaware of his loud mind._

* * *

The helicopter had been pinged with one of Tony's EMP's. Steve stopped where he'd ran out onto the tarmac and watched as an electrical current fizzled through the chopper, rendering it useless for them. It didn't matter; he knew Clint was somewhere looking for the Quinjet in the hanger and that the chopper was a decoy.

Tony landed, his feet thudding loudly on the ground and Steve felt a small inkling of annoyance drip into his head as Tony said, "Wow. It's so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don't you think that's weird?"

Rhodey beside him landed and answered, "Definitely weird."

He was joking? At a time like this? Steve balled his fists up and said, "Tony. Listen to me. It was the doctor. The psychiatrist. He's behind all of this. He reactivated the Soviet brainwashing in Bucky's head. Mallory said-"

All Tony heard was her name, laughing harshly, "So, you're taking orders from a HYDRA agent now?"

Noise sounded from the left and Steve watched, almost speechless as King T'Challa leapt from a ledge and landed. He stuck out like a sore thumb on the tarmac, his black and silver armour glinting in the sunlight.

Politely, the new king called, "Captain."

"Your highness."

"Anyway, Ross gave me thirty-six hours to bring you in. That was twenty-four hours ago. Can you help a brother out?"

"You're after the wrong guy."

Suddenly, Tony was all business. "Your judgement is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday."

"And there are five more super-soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony, I can't. We don't know what his agenda is-"

"Steve." Natasha sounded from the right. Steve whirled and felt himself getting irritated again, as the woman slunk in from the right and was almost pleading with him, "You know what's about to happen. Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?"

Yes, Steve thought, as his fists balled up again and everyone was pleading with him. Yes, I do.

* * *

 _It was earlier now._

 _The Winter Soldier was no longer in a Russian prison. He was no longer staffed by a doctor who had wormed her way into his head. He didn't know the date- didn't need to know the date, that didn't help him kill anyone – but later when examining his memories, he matched the clothing, slang and history with the late sixties._

 _He was to infiltrate West Germany on behalf of the Soviet government to assassinate a prominent socialist who was helping people from East Germany to escape over the border. It was imperative the death was to look like an accident lest any rumours of interference on the Soviet part were kicked up. He didn't care. He didn't even know exactly what Germany was and why it had been spilt. He didn't care at all. All he saw a face that needed to be targeted, and someone who needed to be killed._

 _Ghosting through the city on illegal but perfect documentation, the Winter Soldier blended into the crowd. He conversed with stall owners and scoped out apartment blocks and eventually found the socialist living in a filthy apartment just near the border._

 _But he had not been careful enough. Somehow, somewhere, it had gotten back to the socialist that someone was looking for him. A stall owner with a loose tongue. A nosy neighbour who had spied the same man. His fault. He'd been to overzealous, too eager to participate in death rituals that he'd forgotten to disappear. The socialist had been waiting for him._

 _The Winter Soldier remembered his room being dark. The vial of poison – something the scientists had given him at Department X, apparently untraceable in an autopsy report – held tightly in his fists as he crept into the kitchen. To get into the kitchen, you had to pass the living room. He knew this since he'd done his research but the socialist was waiting, the pistol held in his right hand, a glowing cigarette in his left._

 _"Have you come to kill me, sir?" The man had asked, his German accent wavering, tremulous almost. The Winter Soldier was used to emotion as people cried when they were being killed._

 _Especially the ones his boss wanted tortured._

 _"I won't even ask who sent you. Would you like a cigarette, sir?" The man puffed again; smoke filled the air and he kicked the seat opposite him. "Sit down. Come into the light. I'd like to see your face."_

 _Curiously, the Winter Soldier obliged. The small lamplight washed against his face and the socialist gasped, chuckling slightly._

 _"Well, you're just a kid. A child."_

 _The Winter Soldier said nothing. The man laughed again but it was bitter, almost as if he was in pain. He stubbed his cigarette out and fingered the trigger of his pistol thoughtfully but made no move to shoot it._

 _"This country has been in pain. It's still in pain. We elected a man who told us we could be proud again." The man laughed. The Winter Soldier felt a distant memory stirring, like a cat being poked out of sleep. "Proud. And we were. None of us knew what he was doing do those poor people. Imagine slaughtering six million people out of hatred."_

 _The Winter Soldier said nothing but felt his heart stirring. What was that feeling? Agreement? Remembrance? He wasn't supposed to remember anything – he didn't have memories, he wasn't a person, he just existed in the present moment like a sneeze, or a thought or mayfly – but his was agreeing._

 _"This is my atonement, son and you've come to cut that short. It's okay. I've saved some people. People live now because of me. Hopefully God will not judge me too harshly."_

 _And something supressed came to the surface, leading him to speak for the first time in a while._

 _"I'm sorry."_

 _The man's eyes were shining like jewels. "Thank you, son. Bless you."_

 _The moment passed and the man was murdered._

* * *

Bucky kept sprinting when the red and blue figure landed on the glass of the building.

"What the hell is that?"

The way the figure moved was like a spider, crawling across the glass quickly in a way that no human was able too. The man beside him huffed.

"Everyone's got a gimmick now."

The figured jumped off the side of the building and shot out two strings of white material – was that webbing? – and swung through, to smash through the building and kick Sam to his back. Bucky slid to a stop and turned, throwing a punch with all of his force, the metal scales in his arm whirring.

The figure caught it. Bucky felt his jaw drop. The figure twisted his arm to the side, as if viewing the arm like it was a picture hung in an art gallery.

"You have a metal arm?! That is AWESOME, dude."

Bucky, horrified, dropped his arm. That was a kid. What the fucking hell was a kid doing dressed up in a morph suit running around? Sam, unknowing of the kid's age, picked the kid up and flew off with him.

"Sam!" Bucky was immediately on the comms, "Be careful. He's just a kid."

Hearing this, Mallory surprisingly responded, sounding breathless "What the fuck?"

"I know."

"That is so messed up. Who brings a kid here?"

"I don't know. Where are you?" He glanced out of the window, and saw people fighting outside but no sign of Mallory's wild brown hair or her awkward running gait.

"Doing as you said. Staying out of the way. Being a shadow."

"Good- oh shit."

He clicked off, after witnessing the kid kick free of Sam and begin to swing his way through the beams. Sam was trying to his best to both dodge the beams and fire off rounds to destroy them but the kid was too quick, swinging this way and that and dodging each little shot like they nothing but pellets.

Bucky dodged beneath pillar and heard the kid shout, "Hey buddy. I think you lost this!"

Bucky looked out from behind the pillar and saw a large… well, it was flying too quick for him too notice so he rolled forward, hearing the pillar shatter as the thing sliced through it. Bucky ran forward just in time to witness Sam crashing to the ground, through a coffee stand, glass tinkling as he rolled. Sam tried to run but the kid threw more of that shiny web-like material and trapped him against the barriers.

Bucky hid behind the remains of the coffee stand, listening, waiting for his moment.

"Those wings carbon fibre?"

The kid had landed on the side of the building and was _making conversation_.

"Is this stuff coming out of you?"

"Dude, you look super familiar. Have I seen you somewhere-"

Bucky needed to get everyone back down on the tarmac to reach the jet in time but he didn't want to hurt the kid. Where had the kid even come from? What manipulative moron had been stupid enough to ask a kid along to a fight in which he'd had no stake in?

"I don't know if you've been in a fight before but there's usually not this much talking." Sam was irritated. His eyes dripped towards Bucky insistently but Bucky didn't want to move, not wanting to waste his chance.

"Alright, sorry, my bad."

The kid swung off and was poised to hit Sam through the barrier, likely knocking him unconscious. Bucky saw his chance and leapt between them, taking most the damage as all three tumbled over the side and fell. The kid had somehow swung upwards and landed on another pill, and sent a shock of webbing down to track Bucky's metal hand.

His head was throbbing.

"Guys, look, I'd love to keep this up but I've only got one job here today and I've gotta impress Mr Stark so I'm really sorry."

He flung his hand out to shoot more webbing but at that moment, Sam's drone decided to help them out by attaching a small hook to the kid and flinging him outside. The glass shattered but the kid was thankfully still awake, screaming as the drone dropped him outside.

"You couldn't have done that earlier?" Bucky asked, annoyed they'd had to drag the fight out and damaged the entire lobby.

"I hate you." Sam's response sounded tired. "Can you reach your comms?"

Bucky's metal arm was webbed down but his other was free. He ripped his comms from his left ear and transferred it to his right, pressing down to contact the team.

"Kid's gone. Stark was the one who enlisted him. He might be a kid but he's damn annoying."

"Stark?" Mallory sounded surprised; stupid really. Bucky didn't know much about him but he knew he was reckless. "Wow."

"Mallory? Where are you?"

"I'm hidden. Just like I was five seconds ago."

He sighed, "Has Clint found the jet yet?"

"Yeah. It's in hangar five."

Sam interjected, "Mallory, do you think you could get there without being seen?"

Bucky found his anger flaring up, turning his head to glare at the man beside him, "She's not going anywhere near that battle."

"I said without being seen."  
"But what if she is seen?"

"Then she'll be arrested."

Bucky, furious suddenly, found the strength in him to tear his webbed left arm from the ground. He rolled to his feet and ripped Sam off the ground, who yelped and sat up, picking stray bits of webbing from his arms and face.

"She knew what she was signing up for. I know Mallory. She'll want to help."

"But-"  
"It's up to her."

"Yeah." Mallory responded, sounding confident, "I can get to the hangar without being seen."

Her mind was made up. Bucky felt helpless but if she was so set on it then there was nothing he could do. He wasn't her dad. He wasn't her husband or boyfriend. He had no real control over her autonomy. How she chose to conduct herself was her business.

Still. The thought of her being harmed in anyway if she strayed off the unseen path prickled his skin horribly and lead to an intense, painful throbbing under his eyes. _She has the gun,_ he reminded himself. _She knows how to shoot._

"Then go. We'll meet you there."

* * *

 _He was back in the Russian prison again and his eyes were sore. The doctor was awake now, her eyes wide and earnest, yelling in a response to something he'd said._

 _"Elliot! The whole reason for this mission was a lie! Elliot is only doing it to try and save his family."_

 _His face glazed over. Elliot, Elliot, Elliot. HYDRA agent turned blackmail. Captured by a Russian taskforce mid-mission and held here, in a facility deep in the Russian hinterlands._

 _"My mission is to serve."_

 _"Serve?" There was a crazed look in her, the brown beginning to redden with tears and frustration, "You call murdering a man attempting to protect his family as service?"_

 _He reeled. The question was so tinged with moral fibre. Was murdering someone attempting to protect his family service? A distant memory stirred; he had done that once, before he was this. He had murdered people in protection of family but that was good. People had praised him for that._

 _It made him wonder. Who had the man who was the Soldier been before that? Somehow, he felt like he'd always been in service but who was that soldier, before he wore a mask?_

 _He nodded in response to her question and she laughed, without humour, her eyes misting over. "So, you just gonna do whatever Pierce tells you, huh? You're going to kill that man just because fucking Pierce said so?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _She stared at him for a long time. Stared and moved. He almost moved away but time had told him she wouldn't hurt him without cause. Her body came close – he remembered the imagined pain of her nails on his back – and her eyes half lidded and her fingertips brushed away a stray hair tenderly and her lips brushing against his facial hair and the Soldier opened his mouth and felt his brain lose most of it's composure, as if waiting for a kiss or waiting for water-_

 _"You're a monster."_

 _The whisper was low. Malicious. Intended. He reeled back and watched her quickly retreat to the corner of the cell as if cowering from a monster. Well, so he was now. Named and shamed. This moment would burn in his memory longer than anyone who had killed him. How self-centred._

 _"I don't want to kill him. But I have to."_

 _The truth was cleansing. Purfifying. Did this make him less of a monster now? He sought her approval. She spun. Her mouth opened and she crossed the room quickly._

 _"You don't have to. You don't have to do anything." Her voice was rough, pleading, "You have a choice."_

 _Her hand lay to rest on his arm and he knew it would've been better for him to cope with if she had shot him. People like Mallory were dangerous. They were so earnest and eager and genuine. They were sunshine in a world of rain and they always tried to lift other people to their level. That didn't make them dangerous. What made them dangerous is that they tried that with everyone. They tried to inspire those to live better lives who were destined to live in dirt. It was dangerous to Mallory to suggest he had a choice; he didn't even know what that meant anymore. If he had followed through on every choice, he would be dead, or Mallory would be dead or she'd be underneath him._

 _Later that day, she asked him not to kill Kohl. Out of blindness from the sun she emitted, he agreed, knowing full well he could nothing to stop shooting him. And he was right._

* * *

Mallory heard his defeated voice reply to her.

" _Then go. We'll meet you there_."

Mallory was torn. Part of her was finally glad she was going to be helping instead of crouching behind a car listening to the clanks and thumps of the civil war in front of her. But part of her – a silent, whispering part who was clawing up her back and freezing her feet to the ground – was utterly terrified. Being tasked with trying to covertly capture a jet amidst this conflict? What if someone caught her? What if someone shot her?!

She fingered the safety on the gun James had given her. Contemplation and then defeat followed, as she flicked it down. It felt like she was betraying her morals. Imagine, a doctor ready to shoot someone in the face. Best be prepared, like any good scout but her feet felt heavy as she moved forward.

Clint had helpfully provided her with a crumpled civilian map of the airport. The airfield, where the planes landed and took off, was mapped in its entirety, including the route to hangar five of the private flights section where Clint had said the Quinjet was parked. The straightforward route took her right across most the airfield, right in the middle of the path where everybody was currently regrouping to do battle. So, that was a no go. But the roundabout route avoided the airfield. Sure, it would take her longer but this was the whole point. Classic distraction technique. The Avengers would fit and she'd find the Quinjet to hide inside.

It felt cowardly, but she'd rather be a coward then be dead.

She folded the map back up and put it inside her pocket, breaking into a light jog to duck inside the first building, the ground floor of the parking lot. The place was empty, shattered lights and beams hanging by thin cords of wiring, from Wanda's summoning of the cars. Mallory avoided the glass and slowed her jog to a hurried walk. She reached the other entrance across the parking lot and opened it, exiting back outside.

Mallory looked up. Her view was obscured by trucks but she could see Vision, hovering high in the air with his beam of light slicing into the ground. He was saying something but Mallory was too far away to hear. She fingered the gun again, straining to listen.

"-believe what you're doing is right." Vision's voice was one of grandeur, as if he was reciting Shakespeare. The audience of Steve, Bucky and everyone else was captivated, almost missing the fact that Tony had landed and everyone was gathering. "You must surrender now."

He landed. Mallory had stopped entirely, waiting. Everyone was waiting for someone to blow a klaxon, as if to signal that the fight had begun. Steve – no, he was the Captain now, his posture was ramrod straight and his face was serious – started walking. The rest followed.

The opposing team did the same. It was hard to tell who started jogging first but eventually both teams had broken into a sprint. Mallory had to get going but part of her was unable to stop watching, stop looking from this absolute mess of a situation. It was like seeing a car crash on a highway. Rubbernecking was wrong but it felt like a betrayal of human nature not to _stare._

And then they clashed. The first clang of metal on metal sounded and Mallory looked away. Her throat was tight and she was unable to explain why she had the urge to cry. There was no one to call. The Avengers were the world's last resort and here they were, battling amongst themselves. Mallory unfolded the map, checked her route and set off.

Her route was simple. Weaving behind the airplanes waiting to land, around the prefabs to reach the first hangar then go around the back till she reached hangar five. There was a back entrance to each hangar, allowing the cleaning crews and pilots to enter and exit discreetly. She reached the first set of airplanes and started running around the back.

It was difficult to follow the fight what with her mission and she had to remain undetected. Still, it was possible to hear it. She could hear the thrum of Tony's blasters, the sound of Sam's cannons… even Wanda's energy powers made sounds from this distance.

There was no one else on the airfield. They had been evacuated entirely and Mallory was thankful if for nothing else that no civilian had to be present for this. At least Tony's seemingly unending influence had saved some lives. She came to the end of the last airplane and headed towards the prefabs.

A black shape rolled into view. A familiar black shape – T'Challa. James followed him, a determined look in his eyes but the moment he saw her the look became somewhat annoyed.

"Mallory!" His scream was almost inaudible amongst the noises of destruction. T'Challa heard him however, and leapt upwards, his feet starting to move quickly. It took Mallory a moment to recognise he was coming straight for her. She took out the gun and fired without thinking. The bullet seemed to bounce off the king's armour but it slowed him, as he groaned and held at the space she'd shot him. It gave him only a pause but it was enough for James to catch up, tackling him to the ground.

Frozen now, Mallory just stood there. She had shot someone. He had survived but the intent was there – she had shot someone.

T'Challa, recovered flipped them back onto their feet and both men were wrestling, both strong enough to keep the other one from overpowering. James took his chance.

"I didn't kill your father."

"Then why did you run?!" The king demanded, and forced James's metal arm down from his face. They had forgotten Mallory was there so she ran, gun bobbing useless in her thigh holder as she raced up the stairs and into the prefab.

The prefab had a back exit too but she took a moment, as the two men duelled their way away from the prefab. It had been designed as a break room shack, and was recently abandoned as a coffee maker was still burbling thick tar. Her chest was pounding. She had shot someone. The gun felt red hot against her thigh. She was hot. She took off her jacket and swallowed hard, glancing out of the window. The two men had disappeared. Mallory gripped the sink. The cool air washed over her and the pounding in her chest gently faded.

She didn't have time for this. She sucked in a deep breath. They were relying on her. She had to get moving. She put the jacket back on and exited the prefab. The first hangar was in the distance.

"Mallory," James sounded breathless, "You at the jet?"

She was close. "Almost."

"We're heading your way. Everyone's going to stay behind."

"But they'll get captured!"  
Clint replied, "For us to win, some of us have gotta lose."

Wanda chimed in, "He's right. We can't keep this up. You three get to the base. We'll hold the fort down."

"Right," Mallory reached the hangar and started going around the back. "Good luck guys."

She clicked off. Someone had helpfully painted giant black numbers on each of the hangar warehouses. She passed one, two, three and four without any major incident. But the back door to hangar five was wide open. Mallory stepped through cautiously and went to touch her holster. Who was inside? She took another deep breath and ducked inside, crouching low.

A figure was standing by the Quinjet. A woman, with flaming red hair and in a black cat suit. Nat. Mallory felt her mouth dry uncomfortably. It was like seeing an ex-friend at a supermarket in an aisle you needed. That inevitable action of passing, and the sweltering influx of precious memories that would choke you. There was no way to get to the jet without alerting Nat to her presence and she was not going to shoot her. Still, her hand near the holster, she stood up.

Almost immediately, Nat looked towards her. She grimaced painfully, and swallowed. "Mal."

"Nat."

"What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are." She replied, coming around to stand in front of her, trying to look stronger then she felt, "Just a different reason."

"Mal-" Nat stepped forward and Mallory reacted, her fingers closing around the handle of the weapon. Nat noticed the movement and the look was heart-breaking; her eyes squeezed shut briefly and her fist balled, knuckles whitening under the strain. "Mal, I'm not going to hurt you."

"But you will arrest me."

"Because you're acting against UN protocol."

"He didn't do it."

Nat laughed and her voice was a near yell when she said, "Seriously? Do you even hear yourself? He's _on tape_ bombing the building _._ He escaped UN custody. He attacked me, Sharon, Steve… hell, he even attacked you."

"That wasn't him."

Nat didn't look frustrated anymore. Her look was strange. A look of deep unhappiness but also one of pity that both infuriated and saddened Mallory. Nat sighed deeply.

"Look, I get it. You want him to be innocent more than you want to see the truth. I've been there myself." Nat's voice was a low plea when she spoke again, "But he's dangerous. Even if he was brainwashed again when he blew up the building, that's not a defence. He needs to be in prison, for his good and your own."

It was Mallory's turn to laugh, "Don't tell me how I'm feeling. I know that man better than I know myself. Better than you, apparently."

"We would've taken care of you."

Mallory shook her head, her lower lip beginning to tremble, "There's more to life than just having job security, Nat."

Natasha took a step forward and was outright pleading now, her eyebrows knitted together in a teary frustration, "Don't let your love for him blind you to what he is."

"I love him because of what he is."

She had spoken without thinking and as she said, it was confirmed. _I love him_. It didn't matter that he didn't reciprocate it. She knew it now and all that did was strengthen her resolve. She was in love with him and she was right by standing by him. He was innocent and he deserved a chance to prove that. Finding the base and finding the faux shrink was all she needed.

Nat's mouth opened slightly at the confession but neither woman were able to continue the conversation as Mallory heard Vision's powers activating. A control tower standing just outside of the hangar crashed to the ground, the

support beams severed by Vision's beam.

As Nat had her back to the tower, she acted as a shield, tackling Mallory to the ground to roll them both out of the way. Mallory's back slammed against the concrete and she groaned as they rolled twice but they avoided the debris because of Nat's quick thinking.

The crash was loud and out of the smoke two men rolled out of the way. The one in black immediately hauled Mallory to her feet as Nat jumped up.

"You alright?" James looked concerned.

 _I love you._ Mallory nodded at him, not trusting herself to say anything. Nat and Steve were staring down at one another.

"You're not gonna stop, are you? Both of you." Nat asked. Mallory shook her head.

"You know I can't." Steve replied, speaking for all of them. Mallory saw T'Challa, the man she had shot just minutes ago leaping over the debris. It was over. They were captured.

"I'm gonna regret this." Nat murmured, raising her fist. The blue streaks of her electricity bracelets thrummed and then pinged, as she fired, straight through the gap between the two men and into T'Challa's chest. The king groaned and knelt the ground, as the electricity coursed through his suit.

The trio stood there, unsure of what to do. "Go." Nat urged them, "Go make this right."  
The two men passed her but Mallory stopped, and threw her arms around her. Nat hesitated but returned the embrace.

"Be safe." Nat said.

"You too."

Mallory had more to say when she pulled away but there was no time. She jogged up the runaway and disappeared into the jet.

A/N: So Mallory knows she loves him. But does James return the feelings?

Aka I am so sorry about the gap between this chapter and the last. This is a really big scene in the movie and I found it super difficult to write (I think the writing was lazy in some parts – this will definitely be getting revised).

As per usual, your reviews kept me going – a special shoutout to the guest who broke my heart and made me laugh by begging me to save them. Expect chapter 12 earlier since I'm back on track now.

Love you all so much!


	12. The Scottish Play

_He was out of the Russian prison but the headache had spread; every bone in his body seemed to ache at the touch of light. He was out of the prison and the prison was exploded, an innocent man's blood was on his hands and the woman he had thrown himself in front of a bullet for hated him. Still, she was professional in conducting her business, a cool stare as she went about her routine. Her jeans hugged her now and her hair was longer._

 _He stared down at his hands and found himself wondering if she was picturing them with a gun, seeing him shooting the man she had begged for._

 _Out damned spot. What did that mean? Where the hell had that come from? His façade cracked, a frown forming on his face. A memory seemed to trickle in from the recesses of the torture then faded fast, only the ink stain of the quote remaining, an impression that it had once meant something to him._

 _She hadn't spoken to him but he needed to know. What did that quote mean, if anything? But she spoke first._

 _"Did you lie to me the entire time? Were you always going to kill him?"_

 _Out damned spot. "No. No. There was a moment... a few moments where I considered allowing him to live."_

 _"But you changed your mind."_

 _Her look was one of thunder. A cracking thunder, dark and stormy, one that brought the irreversible tide to wash over him, causing him to say quietly, "Pierce needed him gone."_

 _As if that was an excuse. The look darkened and she spat back, "Pierce didn't understand why he was blackmailing him."_

 _"Did you tell him?"_

 _"No. I didn't think Pierce needed to know. Kohl's dead, and even Pierce's power can't bring him back."_

 _"Yet you're still angry with me."_

 _I don't want you to be angry with me. He should've wanted her to feel nothing. He should've felt of her as inconsequential as silence but his stomach felt tender and his throat felt tight when he considered the notion that she might never speak to him again._

 _"I'm mad at you because... because you could've saved Kohl! You could've stopped your need to prove to Pierce that you're a good little soldier or whatever the hell you're trying to prove to him! You could've... saved Sofia-" Her voice roughened and suddenly he understood, "-and that little boy from being totally alone in this-"_

 _"You're angrier at yourself than me."_

 _"I-"_

 _She cut herself off. The look cleared and gave way to a dawning, eyes wide as the guilt made itself known._

 _Oh, she was dangerous. She had no idea how dangerous she was. An attachment to her, in any way, was irreversibly dangerous. Even if it wasn't reciprocated in the slightest, she would pay the price. She would become Dr. Harriet, forced into resignation then murdered for questioning the head shark. Pierce could never know about this._

 _He stood and crossed the room to where she was, in tears, "Ariadne died of natural causes. The pregnancy and her body was to fault, not you. Sofia had less of a chance then we did from escaping that pit of dogs alive; she was lucky to get away as she did. You almost lost your leg yourself when you tried to reach her, if I remember correctly." He struggled to control himself. "Kohl's death is on me. Not you. Don't blame yourself."_

 _Out damned spot._

 _"I can't help it. I'm a doctor. I'm supposed to save people, to help. Not watch them die."_

 _"Sometimes all you can do is watch them die."_

* * *

Mallory must've dozed off because the Quinjet jolted and she was brought roughly from a black existence. A small moan of protest escaped her lips and James looked over, a very small smile decorating his mouth. How long had she been asleep? Her cramped neck and spine said hours but the sky – still a hue of blueish grey – said minutes.

"Tired?" James asked, his smile drifting into the realms of smugness. Unable to say anything, she just chuckled in response.

Mallory found herself embarrassed. Not for dozing off, but for the gravity of what she had confessed to Natasha and herself was finally starting to dawn on her. She loved him and now had to pretend everything was the same because there was no telling his reaction if she told him. Would he reject her? Her self-conscious anxiety-ridden side yelled a resounding _yes_ because why and how could a man like him love her? But part of her fought back – why would he ask such strange questions and look at her in strange ways if he didn't like her?

The foundation of why she shouldn't say anything was laid though. Immediately. Constructed quickly, solidly with barbed wire and anti-trespasser paint. It was inappropriate. The mission was too critical, too important to distract them with silly love fuelled notions. This was not a movie. They would not kiss before a battle or make love so they had one perfect memory together. Real life did not work like that.

Anyway, there were too many impracticalities even if he agreed to it. Steve was standing right there, she had every right to think he would object if they started making out. And besides, where would they have sex? On the floor? Against a wall? She had no protection on her. _Did the super-soldier serum affect his sperm? Would it immediately impregnate her or did it make him sterile? He likely hadn't been touched in a couple of decades so he wouldn't last very long_ -

He interrupted her thoughts, asking, "You alright?"  
 _Get your damn mind out of the gutter, Smith._ They were on a mission to prove his innocence from killing a few dozen people and all Mallory could think about was what was between her legs.

Her cheeks reddened again. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

Steve was flying the jet, and they were zipping quickly through the clouds. The speed would usually send her dizzy but the Quinjet was a smooth ride, gliding almost. The room was silent, but comfortably so and Mallory stretched her neck this way and that, working out the kinks. The rooms silence eventually gave way to the fact that James was whispering something, over and over. She initially thought he was talking himself but the rhythm of the words was continuous, the same few words repeated over and over.

"You okay?"

He jolted slightly, answering with a frown, "Yeah."

"You sure? I can hear you whispering."

"Oh." Was that her eyes deceiving her or had his cheeks reddened? "That. It's just something I can't get off my mind."

"Well, a problem halved is a problem solved."

"That sounds like something your mom would say."

"Grandma used to say it, but close." She patted the arm of his chair and lent back, "Well?"

" _Out damned spot._ I keep thinking of this phrase. _Out damned spot_. Is it supposed to mean something to me?" He took her moment of silence as confusion, "I know it sounds like nonsense-"

"It's not nonsense." She was smiling at him, too fondly, too familiar. "It's Shakespeare."

His frown deepened, "The… playwright?"

"It's Macbeth, isn't it?" Steve chimed in. Mallory nodded.

"Hmm-hmm. We did it in English."

"So, did we. You remember it, Buck?"

He shook his head, frowning, "I must… I don't remember the story."

Mallory laughed, "Neither do I. I wanted to be a doctor, I didn't pay any attention in English. Steve?"

"Uh… basically, this married couple murder the king of Scotland and then they feel guilty about it. The quote you're thinking of – _out damned spot_ \- is the wife when she's trying to wash the imaginary blood off her hands."

"Pretty much."

Mallory was leaning back in her seat. She was just staring at him now, as he flexed and relaxed his balled-up fist, his face quietly shifting from confusion to understanding then a faint look of surprise. She saw him in the way she had always seen him. God, how long had she been in love with him? Her house, the last time they had spoken without any Avengers interference? Christmas, when they had sat on the steps in the cold and talked about her messed up life?

Or was it earlier? She recalled them sharing a bed in the prison, the sharp gasp that would escape her lips when his cold metal hand would touch her bare skin. Had his hand really been that cold or was she gasping because part of her knew, had known all along and was willing, was _gasping_ for him to touch her further?

Did it matter? She loved him now and she couldn't tell him because it would distract him or it would make him uncomfortable around her. She was okay with that. Everyone had bigger fish to fry.

"What's gonna happen to your friends?" James asked suddenly, quietly, addressing Steve. Mallory forget her internal strife and found herself inhaling, waiting for the response.

"I don't know." Steve's voice wavered, almost tremulous, "Whatever it is… I'll deal with it."

James found Mallory's eyes and she smiled at him reassuringly; he did not return the smile, choosing instead to look back at Steve.

"I don't know if I'm worth all of this-" He gestured blandly around the cabin, "-to you."

"What you did all those years, it wasn't you. You didn't have a choice."

There was a pause. "I know. But I still did it. The fact that I didn't have a choice doesn't remove that it still happened."

Steve seemed at a loss for words, responding with a vague, "We'll just have to see after, you know. Once we've sorted everything out, I'm sure-"

James upped and disappeared through to the other side of the Quinjet. He did not slam the door but the bang was loud, angry, the tension in the room only increasing as he vacated it. Mallory heard the defeatist sigh from Steve, and he flicked a few switches to the up position, then swivelled his chair to Mallory.

"Aren't you gonna go after him?"

"No. It's best you let him process this alone. He just needs some time."

Steve looked unsure, as if he were ready to argue with but surprisingly he nodded and said, "Okay."

He turned back to the console, leaving Mallory stunned enough to ask, "Really? Just like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You never normally like to follow my advice, since I'm HYDRA."

"Mallory-"

"Hey. I'm kidding. I get it. What with your history, I'm surprised you didn't just leave me to be arrested."

"We need you." He insisted, switching some things again and swivelling in the chair. He met Mallory's raised eyebrow and said, "I need you. We aren't sure what kind of tech we're up against. These bunkers are fitted with late nineties technology, probably never having been updated since it was abandoned when he was moved. We're working on the assumption that the cryo-chambers the soldiers are stored in are rudimentary versions of the ones you used for Bucky. He and I can't really work nineties tech."

Mallory frowned, "Sure you can. You have an iPhone, that's way more advanced then clunky nineties computers."  
"You grew up with tech. We didn't. I can only work recent tech and I don't have time to learn."

She saw what he meant. Mallory had been alive for the progressing digital age. She had been in college when laptops were becoming more common. Her first job at the hospital was when they'd been getting a new paging system installed. Hell, even her childhood was dominated with clunky tech. They had owned a family computer in the nineties. Jesus, now that she thought about it, he would be perplexed with computer towers and dial-up and old Ethernet systems.

"I don't speak Russian. James should translate for me."

"Okay."

"Aren't you concerned about the psychiatrist? I mean, if he's woken the others up and programmed them to kill us, we don't really stand a chance."

Steve knitted his fingers together, resting his elbows on his lap. "No, we don't. That's why we need to approach this smartly. You know the most about the Soviet layer of brainwashing. I'd like you try and figure out some sort of phrase that might be able to stop them. I don't want this to be like the airport."

"I'm sorry." Mallory said quietly, and Steve looked at the ground, "It must have been difficult for you to go up against Stark."

"I made my choice."  
"I know. The right choice… but still. They're your friends. Some of them are even my friends." Her thoughts turned to Natasha and she leant back in her seat to draw her legs to her chest, resting her chin atop her knee. "I wonder if they'll punish her."

"I don't know. I hope not. She gave us a chance. It might be enough to get through to them. Even if just one…"

He balled his fists up then smiled at her. He swung back in his chair to the console and flicked some switches down, "We're almost there. See if he's okay, would you?"

She slid out of the chair and went off to look for James.

* * *

 _He was still the Soldier but he was someone else now. His mind swirled, with memories of lives he half-remembered. His eyes still ached. James had been his name._

 _He shifted on the bed. Mallory's apartment was dark, the dusk of the day setting off the cream walls with brown tinges. The shades were tilted, casting patterned and tiled shadows against the wall. Everything was still and silent, save for his quiet shivering as the cold of the river was seeping into his amour, leaving a dark, wet stain on the foot of Mallory's bed._

 _He half-turned to glance at the bed. White sheets with a floral pattern in the left corner. Minimalist and feminine. Very her._

 _Messy; it hadn't been made. On impulse, he bent down and inhaled the sheets. Detergent, a citrus shade mingled with something sweet. What else? Musk and wood, too strong to be natural. A man. Rumlow. His fists tightened on the loose sheet._

 _And what was left? Mallory. Her scent was something else. The perfume of flowers and vanilla almost masked her natural scent; almost. Like the wounded predator he was he could still smell her. Rosewater and sugar. Fresh and sweet. Very her._

 _Footsteps sounded from the outside. Slow and heavy and he resigned. He tensed and felt a wave of pain flurry through his arm. It was broken now and he held the ruined flesh tight in his metal arm. He heard a jangle of keys and breathed a sigh of relief. It was her, surely._

 _She flicked the light switch and inhaled at the sight of him; her eyes flared red with DANGER but thankfully she cut herself off before any sound could be made. The alarm vanished and was replaced with something else… was it shock? Surprise? Even, if he cared to indulge himself, relief that he was alive?_

 _She drunkenly staggered forwards, her voice broken as she asked "James?"_

 _That was his name. He stood and crossed the small space between them. He eyes roamed him hungrily, thankfully._

 _"I'm sorry." He stopped, tried to collect his needy voice and desperate urge to grab her and demand something, a kiss or an explanation or help. "I had nowhere else to go."_

 _She looked like she was going to say something. A crease appeared between her eyes and she closed her mouth. She chose instead to very slowly wrap her arms around his waist and press her head against his chest and just stand there. Holding him. The feeling was alien. It conjured memories of someone else doing it to him – a lover? His mother? He had to have had one once._

 _He hoped she couldn't hear his heart thundering away or see the tear that gathered in his eyes and spilled down his cheek. He lifted his arm and tightened them around her, careful lest he touch her too much and give him to the animalistic urges._

* * *

 _Out damned spot. Life had begun again._

"James?"

She found him sulking in the armoury. He jerked, looking up at her like a child being caught with his hand in a cookie jar but relaxed. He drew his legs up and rested his hands on his knees, like Steve had done moments earlier.

"If you're going to lecture me on being worth all this, don't bother."

She rolled her eyes and sank down opposite him, saying lightly, "Actually I was going to tell you to stop sulking 'cos we're almost there."

"I don't 'sulk'."

She raised an eyebrow, "Uh, huh. So you were what, considering quantum physics in this dark corner? Or were you remembering more plays from the thirteen hundreds?"

His jaw jumped out as he ground his teeth together but ultimately, he decided to smile, his teeth whiter than the stars against his lips. "Shakespeare wrote a lot later than that, Mal."

She hoped he kept smiling like that. The contrast of the bright teeth against the vamp shade of his mouth and the dark pricks of his stubble was something else. By god, this man was beautiful.

"Whatever. Thirteen, fourteenth century, same difference. Like I said, I wasn't interested in English."

"You liked science at school?"  
"Sure I did. Doctor, remember? I mean, my license had probably been revoked after this but-"

His smile faded. Mallory realized what she said and wanted to kick herself.

"I'm sorry." He looked away.  
"James-"

"I mean it. I know you think I'm worth it but I don't think you realize just how guilty I feel for ruining your life."

"You don't think I don't feel guilty? I used to pass you for missions." Mallory sighed, "We both have our crosses to bear."

"You didn't know."

"Just like you said to Steve. I didn't know but I still did it."

He was smiling again. _Stay back,_ but she couldn't help herself. She sat up and then rearranged herself so she was sitting on her heels. She was breaking out in a light sweat, already blushing like a teenager again. Why did he make her feel this way? Curse herself for realizing at the worst possible time. She would've given anything to remain ignorant until she had the time to muse it over.

"James?"  
"Yeah?"

"Do you remember what you said in the warehouse, when you'd just woken up after the UN captured us?" He shook his head at her. Mallory swallowed and prodded him verbally again, "You know, when we were talking about Liam-"

He nodded suddenly, interrupting, "Yeah, about why you kicked him out. Sure. Why?"

"When you asked me… if I thought men and women could just be friends… what did you mean?"

He frowned. His face seemed to go a little paler. Her knees were trembling like she was cold. She felt cold when he looked away and murmured, "I'm sorry if I made you feel-"

The plane suddenly thudded to the ground. Mallory was unprepared and almost smacked her head against the wall. James cut himself and hauled her to her feet to steady her. The door opened and Steve appeared, nodding at them both.

"We're here."

What was the end of that sentence? Mallory almost stopped Steve to ask James but the moment was lost. Steve moved past her to arm himself, James excusing himself to do the same. Mallory armed herself with a handgun and watched as the two men strapped themselves in for the battle.

It was almost time.

A/N: I almost named this chapter 'Mallory is thirsty af' because girl can't control herself. I mean I don't blame her but c'mon! Get it together! What do you all think of this romance angle? I really stressed over it. I'm so bad at writing romance in my other fanfics and my original fiction. I almost included it in the final few chapters of Mallory's first fic but I had to stop myself, it felt too wrong.

Abrupt ending, I know, but we're almost near the end and I don't wanna say goodbye to everyone just quite yet! You're all amazing - keep reviewing and favouriting and sharing! Keeps me going xx


	13. December 16th 1991

Mallory didn't remember a lot from history class but she did remember some pieces from her module on Tsarist Russia. Three facts stuck in her mind. Princess Anastasia had most definitely not survived her family's execution, Rasputin was indestructible and people were exiled to Siberia when they displeased the government. She remembered never understanding why – why was it such a crime, to be exiled to a winter wonderland?

But now she was in Siberia and she understand why people were exiled here now. It was winter but it was no wonderland. It was so cold the wind sliced into sections of skin with fleecing, swift cuts of ice and air. The snow was tiny daggers of unique print, cutting up the flesh. Mallory wasn't yet outside but she felt her skin prickling with gooseflesh in anticipation of stepping out into the cold.

"I'm guessing you both have super-soldier immunity against the cold?" Her teeth chattered, her tone jealous.

Steve smiled, "Pretty much. Romanoff left a coat in here somewhere."

Mallory nodded and went in search of it. She found it lying over the back of the seat. A paltry leather jacket, thankfully lined with quilt instead a thin material. Not quite the fur-lined coat she was picturing but it was better than bare arms. She shrugged it around her and stood with the two men at the top of the runaway, waiting for it to lower.

"Remember that time we had to ride back from the beach in that freezer truck?" Steve said suddenly, speaking to James. "Kinda reminds me of that."

"Was that the time you used our train money to buy hot dogs?"

Mallory chuckled but kept her voice out of it, knowing this wasn't her time to interject. Besides, it was nice to see them just talk.

"Hey, I'm not taking the blame for that, you blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead."

So, he liked redheads? Mallory reminded herself it was almost a hundred years ago, and there was no need to be jealous and then shuddered, remembering she was lusting after a man way older than her. _Does it still count if he's hot?_ That seemed to be the logic _Twilight_ operated on and at least she was a consenting adult instead of a boring teenager. 

"What was her name again?" James was frowning.

"Dolores." Steve answered with ease, "You called her Dot."

"She's gotta be a hundred years old right now."

"So are we, pal." Steve reached out and gripped James's arm. They both laughed together and then the silence extended, the two men looking at each, as if picturing one another as they had been all that time ago in the freezer truck. Pre-serum Steve, with his host of chronic illnesses and skinny frame and James pre-all-of-this-fuckery. Mallory was struck with a sudden urge to know what it had been like – aka, wanting to know _every single fucking detail_ about James's life pre-her - but knew she had little time to ask so she picked one question and rolled with it.

"Guys?" They turned, eyebrows raised. "Did you both have a good time at the beach?"

Steve seemed a little taken aback but he answered, a nostalgic glint winking in his eyes, "We had a great time. James got nowhere with the redhead so we went on the Ferris wheel together."

James was somewhat sombre when he responded, "He forgets he's afraid of heights and he spent the entire time yelling. And as for Dot-" His eyes flicked to her head and very obviously trailed a gaze down her hair then back to her face, an almost mischievous smile growing, "I prefer brunettes anyway."

Steve laughed.

 _Whoah._ Her stomach flipped, then flipped again, all Olympic gymnast. Was this a hint of Bucky, all white teeth and witty mouth? What the _hell_ was that? The sudden gymnast in her stomach dropped low and became something dark and deliciously captivating, warming up places that needed to stay cool and calm to keep her focus. Mallory swallowed and was for once, intensely thankful that he had stopped looking at her.

The two men started down the walkway when it was fully lowered and Mallory steeled herself, following them. _Focus Mal._ And thankfully she did once the cold air smacked her, forcing a gasp up through her throat. James looked back at her, flirty smile gone and an eyebrow raised. Mallory smiled warmly to assure him she was fine and they both went back to the task at hand.

The base entrance was discreetly hidden, sunk into a natural rock formation. The entrance was deceptively small but if Mallory knew anything about HYDRA the majority would be hidden underground with an elevator to access the lower levels. Steve raised his hand and pointed to how the door had been left open.

Steve looked back at them both, "He can't have been here for more than a few hours."

"It's long enough to wake them up." James gestured to Mal. "Stay in the middle. I'll protect the flank and Steve can stay up front."

Mallory nodded and fell into formation. She was thankful to dive inside but both men shook their heads when she went to shut the door. They didn't explain why but she guessed it was to do with an easy escape option. There was ice coating the entrance, the harsh wind still managing to seep through and Mallory dug her hands deeply into her pockets to warm them up. The two men did a quick sweep of the entrance area but found nothing to be alarmed about.

"Elevator." James said.

"Exactly how Department X was laid out." She murmured and James nodded.

"They probably follow a standardized blueprint."

All three of them packed themselves tightly into the elevator. There was a couple of buttons, labelled in Russian. James read them out and they decided to take it floor by floor to do a proper sweep of the place. Mallory hit the first button and the elevator whirred into life, rattling them down deep into the mountain.

The ride to the first stop was long and mostly silent. Mallory stood against the wall, finally beginning to warm up. In fact, she was starting to sweat so she pulled the jacket off and held it with one arm, keeping her other free for easy access to the gun. Mallory found herself stealing glances at James. There was a dual reason for this; one, she was in love so she wanted to stare at him and two, she was trying to figure out how he was feeling.

Likely, he had known these other Winter Soldiers. From what she could infer, he had trained them. Now that he was free and remembering, what did he feel towards them? Anger? Shame? Sadness? His face was blank, perfecting that thousand-yard cold stare. He caught her looking and managed to only turn up the corners of his mouth. All flirtation was gone. He was himself again.

The elevator stopped suddenly, seeming to hit the floor with a thud. The outer door slid up, revealing an empty hallway. Steve nodded at James and they rearranged formation, sending Mallory to the back and the two men serving as the front. Mallory dumped her coat in the elevator and followed without a word as they swept the hallway with their guns and eyes, looking for any sign of danger.

They reached a set of steps. It was dangerously quiet, the only sound the silent thrum of the fluorescent lightening and the footsteps of all three, loud enough to make Mallory cringe with each step. The walls were a sickly green and peeling, leaving flakes on the palm of Mallory's hand when she pressed it against the wall to steel herself. James had almost reached the top of the steps when a loud clang sounded behind them.

The two men wheeled, guns pointed, shield up but Mallory was left in the cold, defenceless aside from the gun in the holster. She flicked the safety off for protection but somebody roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her up the steps; the cold hand said it was James and when she whirled she saw him looking irritated as he yanked her to stand behind him.

"Stay low." He whispered. He wasn't annoyed with her, just annoyed the formation had left her briefly exposed.

James held his gun sight high, his hand steady and Mallory thanked the Lord she was here with two super soldiers. Steve took a breath and asked, "Ready?" The clang became a screech of metal and Mallory felt a cold fear drip down her back, heating her up. The fear became a punch to her gut and she reached out, gasping lightly to touch James's shoulders. He didn't flinch when she touched him.  
"Yeah." The confidence was dripping from the man in front of her and she felt her heartrate steady. She lent forwards, staying low, still touching him and squinted through the crappy lightning to get a better look at whatever was trying to get in.

The screeching became clicking, the rolling of a slide and Mallory saw a bright, circular light before anything. The shape was familiar; Tony's arc reactor. She relaxed briefly out of instinct then tensed again when she remembered he was trying to imprison them.

He stepped forwards and the helmet automatically unfolded. The shield lowered slightly then raised again. Only James's gun sights held steady and once again, she was thankful for that. Steve stood up and began walking cautiously, leaving both Mallory and James open.

"You seem a little defensive."

He was opening with a joke? Christ, this man was testing her patience.

"It's been a long day."

"At ease soldier." Tony said, gesturing to James, "I'm not currently after you."

James kept his gun high. Steve was facing him directly now, "Why are you here?"

"Maybe your story's not so crazy." Was he telling the truth? Was this some sort of elaborate ambush? Mallory was thankful James was keeping his gun high.

"Maybe."

"Ross has no idea I'm here. I'd like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrested myself."

"Well that sounds like a lot of paperwork." And, seemingly accepting the story, Steve lowered his shield, "It's good to see you, Tony."

"You too, cap." He sounded genuine, gesturing to James as he said, "Hey, _Manchurian Candidate_ , you're killing me. There's a truce here, you can drop it."

Steve gestured but the gun stayed high. Mallory, having finally decided, squeezed his shoulders lightly and he relaxed the weapon.

"Do you blame him?" Mallory finally spoke, standing from her crouching position to bypass James and walk down the stairs, "You did try to put us all in prison."

Tony jumped as if he hadn't seen her, "Oh thank God, my favourite doctor is here. Tell me, do you always speak for your boyfriend or is he mute? I don't think I've heard him say a word to me. Is it a control thing 'cos, y'know James, there's centres for that, therapists-"

She reached the bottom step and interrupted him, sniping, "I speak for him when he's too busy to speak to entitled assholes."

She heard a snigger behind her. Tony sighed, one eyebrow almost reaching the top of his hairline as he considered her.

"Does the doctor-patient relationship really extend that far 'cos I'm pretty sure that's a direct violation of the oath you swear."

Mallory narrowed her eyes, "The oath I swear says I need to know the art of understanding my patient's problems so whilst I can't name any names, I do know one of James's bigger problems is an egotistical dick who wears a metal suit and thinks-"

Steve sighed, "Guys, can we get back on track here?"

"I don't know, Steve, I was enjoying that." James sounded amused.

"Alas! It's alive."

Mallory gathered her strength and shook her head, "No. Steve's right. We're here for a reason, not to bicker like children. I'm sorry, Tony."  
"Likewise, doc." At least he sounded genuine. The armour whirred as he raised an arm, "Shall we?"

Mallory nodded and they set off again. With the party numbering three offensive now, Mallory felt herself and the rest of the team relaxing. James walked beside her, gun held properly but lowered, his eyes sweeping the area for threats. As they entered deeper into the facility, Mallory saw there were many plastic doorways, the ones which protected each room from splatters of blood, like the kind found in butchers' shops. Mallory felt sick as she tried not to ponder why they needed these kinds of doorways.

The lightening got even more sporadic so Tony slinked out in front, the circular light of his arc reactor providing a decent flashlight to guide the way. They progressed slowly but confidently. Steve took the middle and James and Mallory were flanking.

"You alright?" James whispered.

Mallory looked over to him. The slow descent into darkness was starting to play tricks on her but she shrugged, trying to sound unaffected, "Yeah."

They rounded a corner and James looked unconvinced. He didn't press the issues however, choosing to sweep ahead, looking left to right down the viewfinder of his rifle.

Tony spoke, "I got heat signatures."  
 _The soldiers._ Mallory's heart thudded to a stop and quickly restarted, her back starting to slicken in fear again.

"How many?"  
"Uh…" The pause was not confidence-instilling but his response sounded confused, "One?"

James briefly lowered his weapon. Had there only been one more winter solider? Mallory saw it as unlikely. James had used the plurals when he was talking about them. Mallory and James exchanged a look, a deep panic starting to rise in the back of her throat like a sickness. What was going on?

Even in the darkness, it was easy to see how the room opened into a huge, high-ceiling hall. The footstep noises switched from clangs to loud echoes, bouncing against concrete. The darkness was temporary as a whirring noise sounded. Mallory got a fright and put both of her arms on James's arm to steady herself. The light lit up tanks stationed around the room.

Mallory heard the hissing of air, like an angry bull exhaling for a charge. It was familiar; the sound of James's snow white coffin back in Department X as it unfroze him for combat. The Soviet coffins were more like sensory deprivation tanks, bathed in an acrid yellow light.

"If it's any comfort-" A voice crackled over an intercom, "-they died in their sleep."  
Mallory was the first to approach one of the tanks. There was nothing out of the ordinary until she saw his position, the wound on his head and the tiny glass shatter in the tank's face. They'd been shot. Mallory looked around and clocked the rest of the tanks with matching bullet skulls. Every one of them were dead. _They never had a chance._

"Did you really think I wanted more of you?"

"What the hell?"  
"I'm grateful to them, though. They brought you here." Another light flashed and Mallory saw the false psychiatrists face peeping out a vaulted tank. Tony immediately blasted the hole with a pulse missile and Steve threw his shield. Both bounced uselessly and she heard a slight laugh from the man.

"Please, captain. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand nuclear missiles, a protocol I'm sure your doctor friend is familiar with."  
"I reckon I could beat that."

"Oh, I'm sure you could Mr Stark. Given time. But then you'd never know why you came."  
James let his hand go from the rifle to quickly gesture to Mallory, "Get behind me."

His hiss was not to be argued with. Mallory slipped behind him and trusting him entirely, allowed him to shield her entirely with his body. She fingered the catch on her gun for safety.

"You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here." Steve was striding towards the box, his stance furious. The two men met face to face and Mallory could imagine what was going through Steve's mind if her own was unable to think properly. What was this? What was this man doing."

"I thought about nothing else for over a year. Studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here, I just realized… there's a little green in the blue of your eyes." The man laughed, "How nice to find a flaw."  
"You're Sokovian? Is that what this is about?"  
"Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I'm here because I made a promise."

Steve sounded firm, "You lost someone."

"I lost everyone." The man responded, "And so will you."

Mallory expected him to attack but instead she heard a popping noise beside her. A light had called everyone's attention to a small screen and slowly, everyone began to back towards it, unwilling to take their eyes off this man for a single second.

"An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within… that's dead. Forever."

Steve's expression when he saw what was on the screen was unreadable – a mixture of shame and anger? She frowned, her wildest imagination conjuring up horrific images but when she finally reached the screen she saw nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was a still of a road in winter. It was black and white and grainy, indicating it was some sort of CCTV footage.

"I don't understand." What was so shocking about CCTV footage?

Tony beside her looked drunk suddenly but when she looked to him properly, she saw his eyes were teary, his expression agonized. "I know that road."

So, it had to be important somehow. Important enough to coax tears from Tony Stark. Mallory's frown deepened. Tony looked at the man, "What is this?!"

The tape was visible, peeking from the clear plastic window of the VHS player. There was a tag written on the tape; Russian, alongside some numbers, 16 and 1991. Mallory turned to James to ask what it meant but the question fell to the wayside when she saw his expression. The man she loved had a twisted face, a barely controlled rage seeping into the pores of his skin, his eyes cold with anger but managing to look blazing with fury at the same time.

Movement on the screen drew her attention to the tape. A car suddenly crashed into a tree. There was no sound, but Mallory's brain added the screeching noise and the thump of metal as the car wrapped around the trunk. She'd treated victims of car crashes before; it was never pretty. The date at the edge of the screen read December 16th 1991.

A motorcycle parked up. A man sat astride it, swinging off it and striding with purpose towards the car. A good Samaritan? One of the victims of the car crash was crawling, towards the man. She recognized the silhouette at the exact moment they roughly grabbed the victim.

It was James. No, it was 1991 so it was the Soldier. He was still deeply entrenched in his ways at this point. He proved this by driving a few blows to the victim's head. Mallory covered her mouth and felt cold tears sizzling with the contact on her inflamed cheeks.

There was noise now; the other victim, a female was crying. " _Howard!"_

The name did it. _Howard Stark_. Tony was watching his parents be killed by the man who stood next to him.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I really hope you all enjoyed reading it. How is everyone? Doing good, doing great? I hope you are. I love each of you who even attempt to read this damn thing xx but i extra love the peope who leave reviews aka my not so subtle hint 3


	14. Rusted

_It was December 16_ _th_ _1991 and the Soldier was bored._

 _Retrieval missions were intensely dull. Go to point a, capture point b and return to point c. Bore, bore, bore. However, he didn't think to pass on this information to his doctor. Harriet had introduced herself in a friendly manner but her eyes sometimes became severe if he was 'too human'._

 _Whatever the hell that meant. And it was nice to stretch his legs._

 _The car crash was steaming with the contact on the midnight snow. The woman was sobbing, calling someone's name. "Howard! Howard!" He guessed it was the man he had just murdered. He slumped the body over the steering wheel and the woman, upon seeing the smashed in face of her husband, began to cry._

 _He hated it when they did that._

 _He calmly walked around the car and closed his hands around the woman's throat. Such a small, fragile bone, crushed beneath his metal fingers almost instantly. She grabbed at him, eyes bulging but he looked away. Simple. Clean. Dead._

 _Now it was time for clean-up. Bore, bore, bore. He'd done a thousand of these retrieval missions. He clocked the area for cameras and spotted one stationed right above him, giving whoever was watching a clean view of the site. He grabbed the suitcase containing the cargo and reached out an arm, hands closed around the gun, calculating that the measurement of his suit was just a quarter of an inch too tight and…. and ended up watching himself again on that night, almost three decades later._

James recalled how casual he had been. Bore, bore, bore. God, killing two perfectly innocent people to retrieve something for a horrific mission was so _boring._ He felt sick to his stomach. How could he be so cold? Thinking only of his jacket measurements as he cleaned up a crime scene.

Beside him, Mallory was shaking. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, her hand across his mouth. She knew he was watching her but unlike anything other time he had ever stared at her, she couldn't look back. Disgusted by him as he knew she would be eventually. There was no chance of happiness now.

And Tony… Tony was breathing heavily. His armour was trembling. His eyes were fixed on the screen, watching his mother and father endlessly being murdered on a maddening loop, his eyes misting with tears.

Tony turned and aggressively stepped towards James, going for him. James instinctively raised the gun, noting how Mallory had leapt backwards in fear but was still sobbing.

Steve was stupidly holding Tony back. "Tony!"  
Tony looked back to Steve, blandly asking, "Did anyone know?"

He was looking at Steve but addressing it everyone.

Mallory immediately, tearfully, truthfully replied. "I had no idea. I am so sorry _._ "

Tony looked back and seemed satisfied. Mallory covered her face with her hands, muffling the quiet sobbing. Tony turned his attention fully onto Steve asking again, "Did you know?"

"I didn't know it was him."

"Don't fucking lie to me. Did you know?"

There was a pause. Too long. _Just tell the truth._ "Yes."  
Tony pushed him away. There was a moment, as Tony processed what had happened. He swayed uneasily on his feet. Nobody made a move to approach him. James was standing still. Mallory had her back turned, sobbing into her hands. Steve was standing, calculating and trying to get upset himself.

The uneasy pause ended as Tony backhanded Steve as hard as he could, sending him off his feet and halfway across the room.

James raised his gun and shot at Tony, who blocked each shot successively. James dropped the gun and swung for Tony, but the two men and their metal arms clashed, Tony's metal hand crushing down on James's forearm. Tony swung his hand away eventually, but then grabbed James by the throat, using his other hand to blast off into the air with him, slamming him down on the concrete ground.

James's ears were ringing. The pain was immense. In the distance, he could hear Mallory screaming. There was little he could do as Tony had his hand pined to the ground.

CLUNK! The shield smacked against Tony's armour. The man was distracted, lifting off James's form to run for Steve who was coming at him. James scrambled upwards and saw Mallory, gun raised, shielded behind a pillar. _Good girl._ He rushed to her side.

"Get out of here!"

She looked at him. Her eyes were still red, still wet with tears and still laced with fear. The look made his own eyes sting, even worse than having his head slammed against concrete. Her skin still bore his mark of strangulation.

James heard an unusual noise and both of them turned to look at Tony; he'd fired an electrical bracelet, tying Steve's legs together and rendering him unable to move.

"GO!"

He left Mallory's side reluctantly and drove his fist up Tony's face. Again, Tony grabbed him and flew him straight into one of the septic tanks the dead soldiers were held in, the glass cracking under their weight. The weight of Tony's hand against his throat was fear inducing; good God, he was scared. It was the first time he remembered truly being frightened for his life. It was a crackle of electricity down his spine.

The fear strengthened him. Sharpened him, like a whetstone to a sword and James reached out and crushed one of Tony's hands in his own. The light of Tony's palms were blinding him. Tony, panicking, brought his wrist up and fired off a missile directly into James's face. James redirected the current and flew it into the opposite direction. His mind calculated the trajectory before it hit and the electricity was back, stronger, shocking his vocal cords to scream.

"STEVE!"

Steve looked and knew immediately what was wrong. He'd already broken the cuff and was on his feet. His friend became a blur, rolling to tackle Mallory out of the way. She had rolled herself – that self-protective streak kicking in – but she was too slow and even if she'd made it out time some metal would hit her. The explosion was deafening and the metal clanged and broke as it shattered to the ground. It swept downwards and Tony was too focused on strangling him to realize both were about to be killed. Steve saved him again, throwing the shield to loosen Tony's grip and they both fell to the ground.

James slammed into the metal hard. A rib cracked. A gasp of pain broke free of his mouth but he rolled all the same. Where was Steve? Where was Mallory? He saw her pulling hair from her face and standing shakily, some distance from the battle.

Steve was standing opposite him, separated by a wide berth of metal. "Go! Get her out of here!"

James didn't need to be told twice. He leapt over the barrier and sprinted straight towards her. She had no time to protest as he grabbed her hand and hauled ass around the corner, the echoing blast of one of Tony's missiles standing behind them.

They were in the corridor that lead to the elevator. There was another room some distance away, that opened the base's helicopter pad. That's where he was heading. He stopped sprinting and pushed Mallory in the direction of the elevator.

"Get out of here!"

"James-"

"I'm not arguing with you!" He was shouting now. The sound echoed. It wouldn't be long before Tony would come sweeping around the corner to finish them both off. "I am not having your death on my hands. I won't do it. Don't make this about you and me."

She was desperate, her eyes flicking between his face and the ground and her hands grabbing at him. But ultimately, she nodded.

"Okay." Her voice was broken, two hands pushing into his abdomen, as if to lift herself off him reluctantly, "Okay."

He wanted to say it. The words were on his tongue but when he opened his mouth he couldn't. Not now. If he said it, he might take her hand and run off with her. He couldn't leave Steve and if he did, he would never be able to look her in the eye again. So instead he squeezed her hands briefly, tightly, willing he'd had it written on his hands so his unsaid words could leave a lasting impression on her skin.

And then turned and didn't look and pushed her out of his mind, ducking through the next door and slamming on the control to open the helipad.

Mallory watched the man she loved duck back through the hallway and not look back. The pressure of his hands was still on her skin. She took a step forward and heard the words _don't make this about you and me_ rattle through her skull. She stopped moving. This was so not the time. She swallowed once then turned on her heel and ran towards the elevator.

James was already a quarter of the way up the helipad when he heard the flight system of Tony enter the room. The sound echoed but was strange; stuttering, like it was coughing. James looked down, stupidly, and saw Tony landed shakily on a mesh-ring just below him. The head of the armour swivelled, clocked him and took a running jump off to fly up towards him.

James panicked and leapt across to reach the next pad. _Stupid._ He heard his own yelp of pain before he felt the boot crack into his gut, sending him crashing into the opposite wall. His back smacked and he fell onto the nearest mesh ring.

Tony's missiles charged and fired. James took a breath. Steve leapt in front of him and he raised the shield. The missile rebounded and sent Tony crashing to the opposite mesh ring. Steve hauled James to his feet.

"He's not gonna stop."

 _Do you blame him?_ James almost said it but instead nodded towards the distance and said, "Come on."

Steve went down, to lasso Tony by the neck and send him crashing to the ground. James went into the opposite direction, going up and up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his gut and the aches in his back.

James heard the whistle of air and heard the contact of the missile onto metal. He'd aimed for the giant joint that was swinging the helipad, opening the place and flooding it with light. _Smart move._ The same smart move sent ten tonnes of metal crashing down onto James's head.

Even a super soldier couldn't survive that. James let go of the metal and fell, hurting his back even more as he slammed against the mesh ring. He stood and found a broken metal rod, swinging it up like a baseball player as Tony flew up. The two fought, metal on metal, James groaning as Tony twisted his flesh arm and had him helplessly locked in a metal vice.

He was walking him towards the edge, James resisting him every step as he knew what would happen if they fell.

His voice was low, a hard whisper, "Do you even remember them?"

James spoke the truth when he answered, "I remember all of them."

Tony reached the last step. James tried to plant his feet but Tony jumped, and let go, sending both falling to their deaths.

Steve tackled both and took some momentum. All three were falling now. James miraculously managed to fall onto the bottom rung of the mesh ring, his upper back taking a beating from the metal. His groan echoed.

Echoed? James rolled to his side and saw the crash had opened the foundations of the building, a rounded exited with holes cut into the concrete, filling the small place with light and the cold wind of the outside wild. Tony and Steve had rolled, Tony slamming against the concrete and Steve managing to land somewhat straight. In the cold light of the day, the two looked battered, broken toys with broken limbs tangled in a heap.

Captain America raised his head and spat blood, standing to his feet where Tony was watching, unable to fly now, parts of his suit dangling off him almost comically.

"This isn't gonna change what happened." Steve was breathless. It was the first time James had seen him so winded from a fight since they had been young, when he'd fought with every bully on the block. "It wasn't him. HYDRA was controlling his mind."

James appreciated the defensive. He rolled closer, wondering if Mallory had made it to the top now and if, in the slim chance they both ended up dead, Tony would go after her.

"I don't care. He killed my mom."

Tony flew into Steve.

A/N: Hey guys! Quick update! The next chapter will probably be live either sometime today or tommorow since I wrote them both at the same time! Please, review, fave follow! You're all awesome and I love you


	15. Pax Avengers

Mallory was still breathless as the elevator rolled up the steps. She could hear the fight, if she strained, the distant clang and crash of metal upon metal. Who was winning? If the fight ended, what would happen? They were difficult questions to answer and Mallory backed against the wall. The closed quarters of the elevator were lonely without the two supersoldiers. _No. Don't think about them._ She couldn't worry. She could only hope.

She reached the top, the elevator coming to a calm stop. Even without the doors open, she could hear the wind whistling. The cold was seeping in through the cracks. The outer doors opened and Mallory lent down to raise the gate until she saw a man standing at the entrance of the base.

"Dr. Smith."

The accent was overwhelmingly Sokovian. The fake psychiatrist. He still looked harmless but the anger rose because she knew he was not. Then the anger faulted; a 9mm was clasped tightly in his right fist. Her chest became unsteady as she took a few frightful breaths. He was putting a phone back in his pocket. She backed away slowly from the gate.

"No, no." He gestured the gun upwards, "Open it up."

Her body was shivering but not from the cold. She did as he asked. The gate screeched, the sound nails on a chalkboard. There was no barrier separating them now. He held out his left hand and gestured for her to step forward. She did as he asked, getting two steps before he held up his palm.

"That's close enough. Your gun." She went for the holster and he shook his head. "Slowly. Kick it over."

How did he sound so calm? She carefully lifted her weapon from the holster and placed it on the ground. She toed it once with her boot then kicked it hard, sending it clean across the ground and some distance away. His face cracked into a dreamy smile which faded quickly.

"Come with me."

He grabbed her roughly and hauled her outside. Her teeth began to chatter. The wind was an assault on her skin but almost as if the elements were sympathetic it was dying down. The snow was brief flurries, tiny and inconsequential droplets of water that had already melted by the time they were raining down on her. The man wheeled her so they stood side by side, facing the steep drop that overlooked the frozen wasteland.

He was going to kill her. He was going to shoot her in the back of the head in this damn country that she'd never been to before. Her hand trembled. She balled her fists together and briefly squeezed her eyes shut. _Happy thoughts, happy thoughts._ She saw good times with her family, felt the pressure of Rumlow's arms around her. The Soldier's cold gaze burned in her memory and then she saw James, smiling at her and it was enough to steady her.

"Am I at least allowed the name of the man who will kill me?"

"You are. Helmut Zemo. I wish we had met under different circumstances, Mallory." Her eyebrows raised with surprise and she saw through the corner of her eye that he was smiling at her. "I do my research, Miss Smith. I like to know full names. It is a grace the Avengers denied my family."

Mallory said nothing. Zemo took a few steps towards her.

"Do you know a lot about ancient Rome, Miss Smith?"

The question was so startling that she had a little laugh before speaking.

"I know enough."

"When the first emperor, Augustus, defeated Antony and Cleopatra at sea, he declared something which we call ' _the pax Romana'_. The Roman peace. Now, peace is a great thing, Miss Smith but it is hard. Do you know what the difference between the _pax Romana_ and peace is, Mallory?" She shook her head. He was getting closer now, his mouth twitching, barely controlled anger simmering under the surface of skin like bubbles on boiling water.

"Peace is living without having to feel afraid but the Romans… no, they considered peace as an absence of war. As enemies, too weak to retaliate, as people too afraid to strike back." He tilted his head at her and raised a hand quickly; Mallory flinched. "You're frightened of me. That's okay. I understand that."

"Do you blame me?"

"Not one bit. I mean, I am waving a gun at your head."

Mallory looked beyond him. The snow was clearing, allowing her to see miles into the distance. It was a pointless view. White on white. Her graveyard.

"Is this your peace, Zemo?" Her voice trembled.

It was so white it looked like a blank screen. She could project whatever she liked onto it. Her mind searched for a comforting memory but the one it kept wanting to replay was surprising.

She was in Liam's apartment, after the first time Rumlow had died and they'd just had sex. She had felt empty, hollow, like if someone rapped on her forehead with their knuckles the noise would echo. He'd pestered her about relationships and all she could think was how easy she could strangle him. And then she had thought of the Soldier, warning her to be careful lest she end up like him. Had she really loved him since them? It seemed so silly now. She had reached out for comfort to a man who had never taken seriously when there was one she loved right in the room next door…

Her eyes filled. Regret was powerful. God, she had wasted all that time chasing Liam when the one she needed was right next door. How had she coped? She was thankful she hadn't realized because knowing he was right next door and being utterly in love with him would've driven her crazy.

Her mood stabilized. The landscape felt warmer. James might never know how deeply she loved him but that didn't matter. She loved him without thought of him returning it and she would go to the grave knowing she did right by him.

"This is me living without fear." As her mind took her on an emotional journey, Zemo droned on. "This is me being able to sleep at night. The enemy cannot retaliate if the enemy is no longer a cohesive unit. The Avengers are much like the Romans in their approach to warfare. They subjugate and conquer and _violate_ cities without so much as a thought-"

It was too cold to listen to this.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." She interrupted, "This isn't you living without fear. This is you making your own peace at the expense of other people. You think your family would've wanted this?" He raised his gun to her but Mallory couldn't stop. She refused to stop. Her spine was ramrod straight and the gun felt much like a toy as the words spilled out. "Did you ever stop to consider that the rest of us have lost something too? My father was killed in Washington by SHIELD agents. My boyfriend was torn to pieces by Wanda Maximoff. And there are two men in there that I care about that might die because of you. How could you be so goddamn selfish?"

He looked at her long and hard as if he was considering it. The wasteland had cleared now and finally, with the bleached snow casting white glares on her skin, it was beautiful. Siberia could be beautiful. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"I almost killed the wrong man."

A voice sounded behind her. Accented and familiar. Mallory opened her eyes and turned her head and saw an unmasked King T'Challa coming towards them. He nodded once at her.

"Hardly an innocent one."

"Was this all you wanted?" T'Challa was trying to stay calm, "To see them rip each other apart?"

"My father lived outside the city." Zemo took a long, shaky breath, "We thought we would be safe there. My son was excited – he could see the Iron Man from the car window. I told my wife, _don't worry. They're fighting from the city. We're miles from there_. Then the dust cleared and the screaming stopped. It took me two days until I found their bodies. My father, still holding my wife and my son in his arms. And the Avengers? They went home. They were at peace." Zemo looked up and met Mallory's eyes, "Their peace was my entire life torn apart. My home. My people. I stayed in Sokovia and helped the rescue teams. Have you ever watched someone die?"

Mallory felt her mind flash to sirens, a cold Russian prison and a French woman going limp in her arms. She nodded. "I'm a doctor. I've probably seen it more than you."  
"Who?" He demanded.

"I can't count the people I've had to watch die." She replied flatly, "But the worst… she was pregnant and she had to give birth in bad conditions."

Zemo hissed with sympathy. When he looked back at her, there was an unfiltered warmth glowing in his eyes. That scared her more.

"Then you'll know how it is. Even if they're a stranger, an emptiness still claws inside you. Grows and festers, like an infected wound." Zemo tightened his grip on the gun, "I knew I couldn't kill them. More powerful men than me have tried. But, if I could get them to kill each other… that would be enough. That would be _peace_. I'm sorry about your father, T'Challa. He seemed a good man. With a dutiful son."

The gun was raised, unwavering at her head. Mallory was crying now but she couldn't be afraid. She had done her best. That was all anyone could've asked about her. "I'm sorry about your family."

"Thank you, Miss Smith. But the damage is done."

T'Challa shook his head. "Vengeance has consumed them. It's consuming them. I am done letting it consume me. Justice shall come soon enough."

Zemo was bitter when he responded, "Tell that to the dead."

He raised his gun, not to Mallory, but to himself and fired. The shot was blocked by T'Challa who quickly restrained Zemo. Mallory felt her spine curl finally and a weakening wave of relief sent her on her knees. The snow soaked in her jeans. Her tears were hot and angry.

"The living are not done with you yet." T'Challa said. He kicked the gun clear across the snow and from somewhere produced a tie to wrap around Zemo's wrists to keep him restrained.

It was righteous and justified and Mallory hated to spoilt the moment but she was too angry to even think; the fury was consuming her. She scrambled in the snow, tears boiling and attacked Zemo.

"You bastard!" She was kicking as hard as she could, her thoughts primal, her rage ancient. "You call this peace! Look at what you've done! _Look at what you've done_ -"

Strong hands grabbed her and hauled her from him. T'Challa's voice was soft, understanding and whispered in her ear. "Enough. Do not lower yourself to his level."

Zemo had curled up to protect himself and once she was away, she saw how helpless and pathetic he was, his own tears dripping down and melting the snow around him. Her cheeks burned with shame. The air was tainted with misery and Mallory slumped against T'Challa, the last of her strength leaving her as huge sobs choked her.

* * *

James could see everything from his vantage point on the mesh ring.

Steve and Tony were hitting each other, giving one another everything they had. Steve grabbed Tony and tried to restrain him but Tony fended him off, throwing Steve down onto the floor. He blasted him with a missile but Steve scrambled out of the way. Tony had him on the floor and was unloading on him. Steve needed his shield. It was across from James. Could he move? He tested his feet and found he could. He grabbed the shield and without thought, flung himself down, using the shield like a sword to hit Tony.

The shield's power bounced Tony off but he rebounded, raising a hand to fling a missile at him. James blocked the missile with the shield then flung it across to Tony, managing to make his hand come back up to catch Tony's swing.

Steve and James were ganging up on him, throwing punches and hitting the armour, back and forth blows to weaken Tony's infrastructure. But somewhere, the routine slipped as Tony blasted Steve halfway across the room in the gut. He landed hard and now all of Tony's attention was on James.

Each hit was powerful. With every blow James blocked, two would hit him. They didn't bounce; they struck, leaving splintered bones and fractured limbs and blood spitting from wounds. His jaw felt loose and he could taste metallic swarming from below his internal organs and above in his tongue. Tony's missile charged but James managed to block the hard laser beam that sung from Tony's blaster. It would've likely cut his face in half. James pulled Tony's arm back to his face then punched him hard in the chest.

Tony hit the hall and James ran to keep him pinned against, grinding the helmet of his armour against the concrete. His hand fought to stay on the chest, to rip the arc reactor to end this. The Soldier in him was fighting its way to the surface, begging to be set free to rip the Iron Man apart and kill him. James never got a chance to decide each way as a hot beam struck him.

James fell to the floor and felt off balance. Metal whirred and sizzled in his ear. He looked and saw his arm – his metal arm – struck free from its socket, the pieces scattered and cooling. Before he could fully comprehend, Tony blasted his back and sent his forehead to the floor.

Now it was just the two. James's head was swimming. His arm cooled. His back ached and a groan fought its way from his mouth. His eyes tried to close but he fought them, fearing if he fell asleep he wouldn't wake up. Mallory had warned him once about falling asleep with a concussion.

He heard the warming laser beam smack against the shield. The light was bright. He squeezed his eyes shut and all he saw was white. He heard fist against metal, Steve weakening the armour with his fists and shield.

James wasn't sure what happened but soon Steve was flying across the room and then he was on his knees next to James, spitting blood, choking.

There was quiet. "He's my friend."

"So was I."

Tony's punches cracked across Steve's face. James felt useless, just waiting for either one of them to beat each other to death. Tony grabbed the scruff of Steve's neck and threw him against the concrete were the light and cold was coming in.

"Stay down." Tony sounded exhausted. "Final warning."

Steve got his feet and raised his fists like a boxer and slurred, "I could do this all day."

James rolled on his side. The missile warmed up and James punched the back of Tony's armour. He was kicked hard in the face, rolling to his other side. When James rolled back over, Steve had straddled Tony and was punching him endlessly. The shield was in his hands and he was just reigning down blow after blow after blow. The helmet flew off and Tony's battered face was looking up at Steve.

James gasped as he rolled to get a better view. Steve raised the shield to smack down on Tony's bare face and Tony's hands came up defensively. Instead, Steve plunged it down and destroyed the arc reactor.

Tony was depowered. It was over. Steve was breathless. He stood and staggered towards James – every step he took was hard and filled with pain. Steve's hand reached out to James and he hauled him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist and shoulder.

"That shield doesn't belong to you. You don't deserve it. My father made that shield!"

Without hesitation, Steve threw it to the ground and carried James to the surface.

* * *

T'Challa had came on his own vehicle but the Quinjet they'd stolen was bigger. They were waiting on the walkway. T'Challa was guarding Zemo, who was now quiet, bruises forming on his face. Mallory couldn't look at him, pacing endlessly up and down. The base was silent now. There was no way to tell who had survived the fight.

Until two figures emerged at the top of the base. She saw the colours of their armour – red, blue and the other man was wearing black – and felt the trembling and the shame fade. Her pacing stopped. They had survived.

She was unsure of how to react. At first, she wanted to cry. To cheer, to laugh, to scream. But then she saw how hurt they were, with Steve almost carrying a slumped over James out of the base and her instincts kicked in; she was Dr. Smith now and patients needed her.

She raced down the walkway, across the snow and to them. Their faces were misted with blood and grime, smears of dirt and James was missing his metal arm but they were alive. She took the weight of James's other side and guided him up the walkway.

She settled James down on a bench. Steve was nursing his side, eyeing T'Challa with confusion.

Mallory was firm, laying a hand on Steve's forearm and nodding at him, "He's with us. Tony?"

"He's alive."

T'Challa nodded at her thankfully then stood, "What do we do with him?"

Zemo refused to meet their eyes. Steve took the lead, "Tie him up. Leave him. I don't want him on this ship. Tony's still here. It's his problem now."

T'Challa nodded and grabbed Zemo to head back outside.

Mallory was searching for the first aid kit. "We better get moving."

T'Challa tied Zemo up and left him on the snow. He took his own jet and instructed the trio to follow him as Steve had assured him he was well enough to pilot. The exit was smooth and silent, and quickly the Quinjet had ascended to the clouds and was starting to glide away from the scene.

Mallory was cleaning James up. He hadn't moved but as she turned to grab a needle and the box of stitches, his hand reached out and grabbed hers. The pressure was hard.

"James?"

His teeth were crimson when he fought to keep his mouth from trembling. His eyes were red, from injuries and now from fighting back tears.

"Are you hurt?" She came closer, "Where's hurting? What's the pain scale-"

"It's not the pain." His voice was rough. She understood, her own eyes starting to burn as she settled on the seat beside him. She squeezed his hand back and his eyes shut. "Please don't leave me."

He couldn't look at her likely out of shame. She reached forward and brushed some hair from his face, where it was clinging with the grime and the blood.

"I won't."

"I mean it." He grabbed her again, delirious with pain. "Don't leave me."

"I promise. I won't leave you." Mallory squeezed his hand again, "Not again."

A/N: I am such a goddamn liar. 'The chapter will be up tommorow'. LIES. Never believe me when I say that. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Review, favourite, follow. Love to all xx


	16. Daybreak

Mallory was face to face with one of the biggest statues she had ever seen. A real eighth wonder of the world. The statue was black, a mammoth study of a panther seconds before pouncing. Its teeth were bared and its stance ready, coiled for a spring as if to dive into the state of the art medical facility she was standing in.

"Dr. Smith?"

A woman called behind her. She turned and saw the head chef from the palace kitchens walking towards her, carrying a paper bag. She handed the bag to Mallory and Mallory could instantly feel the heat of the food steaming up through the plastic containers.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" The chef said, nodding at the statue, "Our kind of beautiful. Some foreigners think his purpose is to frighten off visitors. I've seen American children run screaming from him. People misunderstand that he wants to guard those who enter his kingdom, not frighten them off."

"I might be an ignorant American but even I can see his beauty." She was smiling and Monifa chuckled. Privately, Mallory disagreed. There is beauty in strength. James had taught her that.

"You might be American, but you're most certainly not ignorant." The woman touched her back lightly and smiled. "Enjoy your date."

She did little to correct Monifa as she went back to the kitchens. But Mallory knew this was no date. She shook the sad thoughts from her mind and went in search of the room he was sleeping in. She was barefoot, still dressed in the long skirt and top they'd loaned her to replace the sweaty clothes she had been wearing for some time. She had showered, washed her hair and was on the mend, but her fists were scarred from the barrage of hits she'd given Zemo. Her cheeks were burning now from the memory.

She reached room 213 and slid in the key card.

The windows were cast wide, the breeze gently wafting the curtains across the room. The light was golden, beginning to set and slanted a caramel glaze over everything, especially the man who lay asleep on the bed. James had his face buried in the pillow, lightly snoozing. His shirt was off, chest heaving, the duvet wrapped around his waist. A light dusting of chest hair and bruising rose with each breath he took.

She admired him for a moment. He was healing well. There was small rubber cap around his missing arm, preventing any further shocks or friction burns from the mangled mess that had been his arm. Tony hadn't torn it clean off but most of it had been ripped away. There was no need to replace it yet but there was a prototype sketched up in case the need arose.

His ribs were taped nicely, a white bandage around his middle section. Mallory could not fault the doctors at the Wakandan facility for anything; they were far better than she was and better funded than any American institution she had worked in. Still, he was loyal to a fault, as he'd woken mid-resetting his forearm fracture and refused to let them get any further until she'd been present. He had gripped her hand so tightly.

She was hesitant to wake him but she was hungry. Mallory set the food on the dresser and sat on the bed. She shook his good shoulder lightly. "James?"

She heard him groan into the pillow. "Mmm…"

"There's food if you wake up."

"What time is it?" He spoke to the pillow, his voice sounding distant.

"Almost seven."

She heard him sigh and he sat up. She moved aside to give him room, as he rubbed his eyes, yawned and looked at the source of the smell.

"Dinner in bed? Have you got some bad news or something?"

She laughed. She unloaded the feast on his bed; two bottles of imported American root beer, two dishes of authentic Wakandan food, an extra portion of rice and paper plates and cutlery. "No. I owe you dinner, remember? And since Steve's breaking Sam and everyone out of jail, I thought we could treat ourselves. It was supposed to be Greek, I know, but they don't really do that here and T'Challa assured me this is top tier Wakandan food."

"Did he now?" His eyebrows raised, "Do you and the king spend much time alone?"

Mallory smacked him lightly. "Behave."

They started eating. The mark of delicious food was eating in silence and neither spoke for a while. Mallory stopped and cracked the top off the bottles and they both clinked bottles. She took a long, hard swig and _ahh'd._

"Tasted better in my day."

She rolled her eyes, "Well it would, wouldn't it?" She nodded at his ribs, "How's everything healing?"

"About the same as it was when you asked me two hours ago."

Mallory narrowed her eyes. "Not sure I like Bucky. He's too sarcastic."

James smiled, "I'll be sure to remember that." He continued eating.

She took another swig and swallowed. Was it the time? She nodded internally and began. "Hey, I've actually been meaning to talk to you."

"What about?"

His eyes zeroed in on her. She chickened out and went with the slightly less ground-breaking but still utterly fantastic news. "T'Challa's offered me a job in Wakanda and I'm thinking about accepting."

"That's incredible! Congratulations."

"Thanks." She was beaming now, "Once mom has finished her programme in rehab, I'm going to fly her out here. It'll be good for the both of us, you know. Change of scenery.

"Have you spoken to her?"

She nodded, "Uh huh. She cried. Quite a bit. But once she stopped, she understood. Oh and she said hi. Also she's praying for you and she can't wait to see you again."

"Oh. Well… tell her thanks." James rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, unaccustomed to the affection. "Have you spoken to… uhm, Liam?"

She nodded again, less enthusiastically, "Yeah. He was annoyed. But ultimately, I think he gets it. He's out of the apartment. We just sort of said our goodbyes and then I deleted his number."

"Good. I never liked him."

She rolled her eyes, "Sure."

They finished their food. Mallory left some of hers and James reached over and continued eating. She smiled at him around the bottle of the root beer; it was nice to see his appetite was back. They sat in a further silence but Mallory admiring the décor of the room; very minimalist, white and neutral tones, almost like her old apartment in Washington but way fancier.

"I've actually been meaning to talk to you." He said suddenly. The words burst from him as they'd been building a while. It put Mallory on the defensive and she lowered her bottle, raising an eyebrow.  
"Oh?" Her stomach flipped. She didn't know what to do with her hands or her eyes.

"You can't get mad."

"Okay?"

"It's nothing big… I just… I'm thinking of putting myself in cryo again."

Mallory put the bottle down and kept her mouth shut. Her mind was loud, chanting _nonononononono_ as he talked.

"I just… I can't trust myself. I can't be out here with all that junk in my head especially after everything that happened. When Zemo switched me, it just made me realize that I could be the Soldier with no way to turn me back without damaging me. I'm dangerous."

"You're not-"

"Look at what I did to you." His eyes found her throat. The marks of his hands were still tight and red but fading. There was still bruises on her knees and her lower back from the fight she'd had. Mallory wished the top she was wearing was a turtleneck. "They're still there. I could've killed you. I could've killed any of you. I won't forgive myself for that but I won't let myself hurt you again."

Mallory nodded slowly, looking to her hands, "When?"

"When Steve gets back. I wanna say goodbye to him."

"Okay." She looked back up at him. He reeled, surprised. He'd probably expected more of a fight but Mallory felt her resolve hardening, shrugging, "If this is what you want…"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." She folded her arms, "Look, I'm not happy about it. I'd much rather you stayed awake and we could work through this together, all of us but if this is what you feel is right then we have to respect your wishes. I think you forget that I don't really get a say in what you do with yourself."

"Sure, you do. You're my friend."

The word was supposed to be reassuring but it felt like a punch to the stomach. She wished the root beer was proper beer. No, she wished it was an entire bottle of vodka. If she were drunk, she would be able to blame whatever she said on that. But she had to say it. _Here goes._

"Am I?"

"What?"

"Can we really be friends?"

He was frowning. "I don't follow."

"I asked you what you meant. When you asked me if men and women could really be friends. And we never got a chance to finish that conversation."

He grew uncomfortable, "Mal, I don't wanna talk about that right now."

"Well I do."

"I told you I was sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. There's nothing more I can do about it." He couldn't meet her eye, "It's just always going to be there and I'd rather you knew about it. If you think it's gonna make us weird then I get it-"

She frowned.

"What are you talking about?"  
"Are you really going to make me say it?"

She was lost now. "Say what?"

He looked angry, "Jesus Mal, if this is some stupid ego thing-"

"James, I literally have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then what were you talking about?"

The conversation had derailed. Mallory wasn't sure but there was a growing ray of sunshine in her chest. If she read him right, she was sure he meant that he… surely no? Surely life wouldn't take everything away from her and promise her endless misery and longing then give her the romance equivalent of a Rosetta Stone?

She bit back a laugh. A loud laugh, whooping, triumphant. She had to take the lead now. If that growing sunshine was right… if she was right, then she had to take the lead because this man had spent almost seventy years brainwashed and mentally under the thumb of evil organisations. He hadn't done the romance thing for all that time. It was only fair.

She reached forward. Her hand came out to rest on his cheek and giving him plenty of warning to back away she kissed him. Her heart was thundering loudly, unable to hear anything else over the furious pounding. It was a simple touch of the mouth but enough. When she backed away, his face was unreadable. The sunshine felt like it was evaporating; had she misread him? _But he didn't pull away_.

Then he smiled and Mallory smiled back. There was a soft chorus of laughter. Mallory went a little red and looked down. "Is that what you meant?"

"I thought… when you brought it up on the ship, I thought you were trying to tell me that you knew and that I was making you uncomfortable with how obvious I was being."

"Obvious? Christ, you really are a spy. If that was obvious, then I was wearing a t-shirt with your name on it."

He laughed, promising her, "I had no idea."  
"Neither did I."

"Since when?"

"I guess it's been a while now. I can't really pinpoint the exact moment but when we were at the airport, I knew then. You?"  
"Longer. Way longer. I can't pinpoint when either but I know I was him. The Soldier." She recoiled slightly. He noted it and asked, "Does that surprise you? That a man like that could fall in love?"

Okay, now her face was spilt from beaming. He'd said it. This was ridiculous. She was grown women but her stomach was flipping and her heart was thundering and all she wanted to do was throw herself at him.

"Not fall in love. Just disagree with who he picked. I mean, she's such a moron!"

His hands were caressing her cheek, "I'm going to have to respectfully disagree. Maybe you just don't know her very well. She's so smart and kind and beautiful…"

She rolled her eyes. They kissed again. Longer. Deeper. Slower. She pressed herself against him and felt him break off slightly, his breathing stuttering and shaky. His face was serious when they pulled away.

"I- I haven't done this. I'm not sure-"

He sounded so panicked. She was easy. She kissed him once, reassuringly and cleared the bed of food and bottles, talking all the while. "I understand. We don't have to do anything."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I do want to."

He looked so disappointed from where she was sitting and Mallory laughed. The sunlight was lower now. Romantic.

She laughed, "I know. But I'm tired and you're healing so we can just go to bed. Anyway, I think it'd be stupid because the moment we have sex, you're not going to want to go back in cryo at all. You probably won't wanna leave this room."

The joke worked and he was smiling again, "That's some high expectations you're giving me."

"I don't disappoint." She reached to touch the inside of her waistband and hesitated. Her voice was nervous when she asked, "Can I sleep in here or do you want me to go?"  
"No! No. Stay."

His voice was so reassuring. She slid her skirt down and watched as he automatically averted his gaze. How cute. She rolled her eyes. An idea popped in her head. T-shirt in hand, still half dressed, she walked over to where he was sitting and touched his chin. Gently, she moved his face so he was looking at her. Her voice was quiet.

"Don't look away from me."

"Sorry. I'm just-"

"Unused to this?" Her fingers left his chin and thankfully, he stayed looking at her. Good lord, he was beautiful. She could live the rest of her life with his eyes on her.

"Pretty much." His eyes flicked to her lower half; the bare thighs, the dog jaw scarring on her lower leg and white lacy underwear and he swallowed hard. His pupils were almost black with desire. "I like looking at you but I don't want to be too… forward."

"You don't want to be too forward." She repeated his words. Her teeth briefly grazed her lip as she thought of how forward she wanted to be with him. A sentenced flashed in her mind, a wicked phrase; _if I were being forward with you, you'd be inside of me right now._ But she couldn't bring herself to say it. He didn't feel ready to have sex and he was unused to the sexual knowledge of a modern woman. She wouldn't scare him like that.

Still, it was nice to confirm he wanted too so she went with a slightly more PG version. "Believe me, I would not mind if you were forward with me."

James looked to her feet. He was so nervous. She could imagine his heart thumping away in his chest. His eyes flicked up to her face then down again.

"You can touch me if you want." Her voice surprised her. Low and sultry. Where had this vixen come from? He swallowed again and his hand raised. He didn't know where to touch. She lifted his hand gently and placed it on her lower thigh; taking the hint, he grazed it upwards until he hit the waistband of her underwear. His touch was gentle. This time, he smiled.

"I like touching you too."

She moved closer and he took the hint, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her tighter. She moved her fingers through his hair and said, "I like you touching me as well."

His face was just below her breasts. Her t-shirt was still on but his hands found their up, under the shirt and following the underwire of her bra. The touch on her skin was light. It was sweet and maddening to parts below. _Just touch me dammit!_ She hadn't had sex in so long.

Her desire, however, was forgotten when he spoke.

"I want to get better for you but I don't want to leave you." He sounded broken and Mallory felt her breathing hitch. She took his arms from her and knelt to his level. His cheeks were wet. He looked so lost and it broke her heart. "Do you think this is the right thing to do? Going back into cryo?"

"I… I can't answer that." He frowned and Mallory took his face in her hands, wiping away his tears, "It's complicated."

"That's not an answer." He shook his head. A few more tears rolled down his cheek. She had never felt physical pain over a partner's anguish before but there was, scooping out her chest. Mallory needed to be strong for him. She wiped the fresh tears away.

"I can't make this choice for you."

"I know-" He looked away.

"I wish I knew what the answer was, I really do but I don't. All I know is that whatever you decide to do I'm going to be right here because I love you." He still looked unsure and Mallory nodded at him. "I'm going to be around so much that you'll get sick of me."

His laugh sounded more like a sob but there was smile on his face.

"I'd never get sick of you."

She rolled her eyes, "Every single one of my boyfriends have said that and look what's happened. I'm single."

He kissed her once, "Not anymore."

Smiling, she stood up again and straddled him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he did the same to her waist and he lay backwards, so they were lying in the bed together. She moved briefly to remove her bra and change her shirt but settled right back to where she was lying.

The light was far lower now. It would almost be nighttime soon. James's fingertips were on her waist, moving back and forth across her hip in a soothing, slightly ticklish pattern. She shifted and he winced.

"Sorry."

"It's alright."

"Have you had your painkillers?"

"Mal, can you switch the whole doctor thing off for one second-"

She sat up, "Nope. Where did you put them-"

He pulled her back down and in swift movements had wrapped them both in a duvet and trapped her in his arms. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"I am."

"God, why do men pretend they can't feel pain?"  
"I'm not. What do you mean?"

"Well…" She hesitated. She enjoyed talking about Rumlow generally but didn't like mentioning him in front of James in case he triggered something. She spoke cautiously. "Rumlow used to hate taking painkillers for anything. Getting him to take aspirin for a headache was a goddamn minefield."

His chest tightened briefly but he responded humorously. "Historically, Nazis tend not to respond well with weakness."

"Oh. You'd be well acquainted with that, wouldn't you? Sometimes I forget I'm fucking such an old man."

He laughed, long and hard. "Old man? Harsh. And you haven't fucked me yet."

" _Yet_."

He laughed again. His hand came to rest on her thigh again, tapping an unheard beat. Her eyes were growing heavy and knowing she was soon going to fall asleep, she rolled to make herself comfortable then close her eyes. She felt him press a kiss to her temples but his mouth lingered there.

"I have to ask you a favour."  
Her eyes fluttered open, "Hmm?"  
"Not right now. We'll talk about it in the morning."

"Well, now I'm just intrigued."  
She rolled over to face him and he was smiling. The light was black now, the night finally fallen over Wakanda but street lamps from outside and the moon illuminated the room, the contours of his face. He touched her mouth and spoke softly, ordering her.

"In the morning. Get some sleep."

A/N: ayyyyy my children are finally at one. took me long enough.

next time on the trials of Mallory Smith; Mallory finds out about the mysterious favour and we head abroad to meet an old friend

love to all on this wonderful day xxx


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